Booster
by Master of Sorrow
Summary: No homosexuality. A glimpse into the medic's mad scientist past. How odd it must be to meet one of his former experiments, now as a team mate. Medic with OC. OC intrigue with Sniper. Rated M later for sex, drug use and gore. 10200 hits.
1. Something They Don't Get

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION NOTHING MORE. TEAM FORTRESS 2 BELONGS TO VALVE CORPORATION.**

Names: (Story was started on 29 November 2010, not all characters have been named hence the need to come up with own names)

Spy: Andre

Heavy: Sokov

Sniper: Nigel

Soldier: Jane Doe (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Medic: Landric Metzger

Demoman: Tavish DeGroot (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Engineer: Dell Conagher (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Pyro: Pyro

Scout: Dillan

OC: Toskia Van der Meer

**BOOSTER**

**CHAPTER 1**

A Team Fortress 2 fan-fic

••••••

The setting is the Blue team's base. It is in the canteen while everyone eats just after the nightly ceasefire has begun. It is a Friday, and the weekend is also a ceasefire. The distinct matronly and yet military voice of the administrator sounds through the high-end P.A. system.

"Attention Blue team."

The entire canteen fell silent at the announcement, the mercenaries looked up from their food, surprised.

"What the hell..." Grunted the Soldier with a fork of spaghetti near his mouth.

The administrator continued, "Please give a warm welcome to our newest team member and class of mercenary. Bear in mind that this is only a trial period to see if this addition is successful, hence the Red team has been left out."

"Ha! Finally mates we get somethin' they don't! They get everything!" Whooped the Australian Sniper, turning around to see where this new person was.

From the door stepped in their newest team member. He was wearing typical Blue team millitary-ish uniform, a variation of coveralls. He was not tall, but was solidly built with broad shoulders, of Dutch origin with short blond hair and light blue eyes. At least they all thought he was a "he" until this new team member spoke, whereby an unmistakable female voice broke the silence filled with anticipation.

"My name is Toskia Van der Meer. Pleased to meet you." she said. "That," she replied the Sniper's earlier comment, "-or as Mr. Hale of Mann Co. commented; that the Blue team keeps getting whacked by the Red."

While everyone except the medic enthusiastically introduced themselves, the spy with his typical straight face asked her coyly, "What do you do?" His mask ironically accenting his facial expressions, but keeping his identity secret.

Van der Meer turned to him and answered deftly, "you will see on Monday."

"Mmmmhh mmmmhh mmmh." said Pyro.

The spy spoke once more, using more his intuition this time. "You... are a climber yes? It is why your shoes are the soft and flexible kind... Your hands are chalky... But I cannot understand why you would need such a build."

"Never comment on a lady's weight Andre, even if it's muscle." Laughed Dell the Engineer. "It's offensive." He looked at the Scout with a warning glare before he said something stupid.

"As I said. You will see on Monday." she said, her mouth gently set with a firm smile. "Now gentlemen, I am hungry, I will just have my dinner now with you."

"Och' Lassie come on here hae' a seat wi' me!" Tavish waved his half-empty bottle of alcohol.

"Here, have sandvich." said Sokov the Heavy weapons guy.

••••••••••••••••

The Blue Medic turned off the hot water running in the shower of his thread bare quarters. Even so as he stepped out of his bathroom he trembled inwardly. She looked different from when he last saw her, but yes. The name and appearance tallied, how could he forget that face?

"Toskia..." he whispered.

Three snowy white doves perched upon his shelf cooed softly.

Drying himself off with a towel, he thought about the past many, many years ago. That was after WWII... Without his round glasses on, he slowly made his way to his bed and tucked himself in, shivering abit since the sheets were still colder than his body.

One of the doves fluttered over and landed on his bedside table.

"Archimedes... Go to sleep..." said Landric.

The bird hopped onto his bed and then onto his pillow, tilting its head this way and that, its ruby-red eyes wide and unblinking. It lay itself flat, belly-downwards in a comical manner close to Landric's face.

"Archimedes..." whispered Landric.

His pet could tell that he was not well. The Medic looked at the bird's eye. To a lay person it would look blank and mindless, but to Landric he could see that Archimedes was looking at him and watching.

"Ja... I zhink my past has come back to haunt me..."

The dove cooed softly once and still did not move.

"Vhat will I do Archimedes...?"

Drifting into sleep, he was pulled into the present again by something heavy pressing onto his body over the blanket.

"Dr. Landric Metzger." said a calm alto voice.

His eyes still half-closed, his body stiff and sluggish from being rudely awakened from deep sleep he murmured. "Vhat are you doing here." He struggled to wake up, and he gasped when he felt her hands on the sides of his face.

"I knew it was you the moment I stepped into the room." Toskia said.

The medic struggled to see her face without his glasses, cool moonlight shone into the room through the curtains covering the window. He could not sit up because her body was draped over his. Odd, he did not seem nervous or agitated. But he understood why the moment he saw an empty syringe lying on his bedside table.

Landric could only manage to say softly, lethargically, "Ja... Toskia. I remember.

"I am pleased you do." she answered, looking at him unashamedly. "I did not know you would let yourself become a drug addict." It amused her greatly to see the roles had been reversed. Now it was her turn to stare down at his face, her turn to have power over him. She watched his pale grey eyes look half-blindly up at her. Slowly turning in their sockets, searching and trying in vain to focus.

"It helps me manage." he mumbled.

"You took... such good care of me doctor..." she whispered cutting him off. Her hands were moving down from the sides of his face to around his neck.

He sighed and blinked slowly, helplessly, the drug she gave him made him unable to feel much fear. But it still was there within, just drug-cloaked and disguised. She was going to kill him then. Of course she would want to.

"You're all grown up now." he said. His mouth felt dry. "I barely recognised you... What have you been doing... all these years before you came here?"

"I was working. Using the same skills I presented to my most recent employer."

Metzger's brain was fogged up. He asked slowly, his mind taking more time to process this information. "What haff... you been working as?"

••••••••••••••••

A LONG TIME AGO IN YESTERYEAR...

*Italics in German.

"Keep still!" Roared the doctor, holding down his patient. "_Hold her down!_"

Accompanying assistants in white struggled with a young teenager, trying and just succeeding in holding her down onto an all-rounder type of medical table. Above her shone bright electric operating lights.

"The more you struggle the more it will hurt dummkopf!"

"Give me more anaesthesia!" the girl screamed with her face red and eyes screwed shut, she continued to struggle, the medical platform was creaking.

"Zhere is no time it has to be done now, before it sets!" The doctor pulled on his black rubber gloves. "_Bring it here! Quickly!_"

•••••••••••••••••••

BACK TO THE PRESENT...

"How have you been Metzger?" Asked the woman, changing the subject and looking at his face. More than just looking, _admiring_ his face in fact.

Landric swallowed with no expression once, his eyes still half-open, half-conscious with whatever she gave him. He spoke slowly. "Just... get on vith what you want to do to me." He closed his eyes waiting for whatever was on the menu.

The woman leaned forward and kissed his mouth once. Then she carefully searched his face for any readable expression. His eyes were half-closed and seemingly languid. When she leaned in again to kiss him a second time, she was disappointed when he lethargically turned his face to the side denying her his mouth and tongue. Discouraged but still determined, she began to kiss his neck instead with her soft lips. Her hands had moved onto his shoulders, and when she began to massage them...

"N-Nein. Stop zhat..."

"You find me repulsive then doctor?" She got up.

In the blur and darkness, he saw she was wearing the standard-issue cotton, pale blue night shirt everyone wore. Without his glasses, the blurry shape he saw looked just like that of a man's.

"Toskia, vhy do you..."

There came no reply from her, just the sound of his room door softly closing with a strong air of finality. Landric closed his eyes and went back to sleep again, but he felt hot and bothered even through what numbness the drug gave him.

••••••••••••••

The next morning, Toskia woke before everyone did. She was a light sleeper, and she lay in bed collecting her thoughts. She decided she liked her little room. It had a bed, a toilet and bathroom. Steel cabinet and simple wooden shelf. Small writing table and chair.

All she needed to do was get used to everything, like a comfortable routine. Then, she would be able to feel safe and that everything was all right.

Unexpectedly she heard the rain arrive. It got louder and louder, it was deafening like white noise. The sun was beginning to rise. From the schedule she found out that on weekdays at 9:00AM sharp the conflict would begin.

She got dressed and walked out into the corridor shivering abit.

"Katie Biardie hae' a coo' black and white aboot the moo'..."

She stretched stiffly, recognising the drunken singing voice. Lo and behold came the Demoman Mr. DeGroot. Except for this time he could barely walk straight, and he was holding a bottle of whatever upside down. Last night at dinner he appeared sober although he smelt like alcohol.

"Aye lassie sing wi' me!" He slung his arm around her broad shoulders. Toskia, (and she imagined also the rest of the world) could smell him. He smelt like an uncovered barrel of whiskey out in the mid afternoon sun.

Humming along with the swarthy Scotsman, she walked and tottered with him to the canteen for breakfast making a mental note to herself. ("Demoman is drunk 100% of the time. Competency depends on level of intoxication.")

"Katie Biardie hae' a coo' black and white aboot the moo', go Katie Biardie..e.e!" He finished, sitting down onto the chair with a loud plonk at the table with Toskia.

The kitchen personnel were already preparing breakfast.

"Mr. DeGroot, did you sleep well last night?"

"Och' no lassie, I was awake all night drinkin' and smokin me life away." He leaned back in his chair with his one eye closed. "But don' worry aboot me none. I'll be sleepin' in the afternoon."

Toskia watched as he tried to drink from the wrong end of the bottle– he still was holding; it was upside down. As he cussed mildly asking what was wrong with his "scrumpy" she saw labelled on the brown bottle the classic "XXX."

A puff of smoke appeared from the corner of the room, and then a man materialised out of thin air. The masked Spy.

"Bonjour." He said, taking a short graceful bow.

Toskia nodded once, and then refocused her attention on the Demoman, now eating sloppily his scrambled eggs and bacon. She had already finished her crispy cornflakes. He had evidently drunk himself into a heavy state of merriment. He was also so drunk that he poured his coffee into his cornflakes, and ate it without seeming to notice anything was amiss.

"Mon petite," began the Spy Andre, "would you need me to show you around zhe base?"

Andre frowned, turning his head to the side. Of all people to get acquainted with, she chose the alcoholic Demoman in his worst state? The Spy was much used to having women flock around him, and he found it a mild insult that she barely looked at him.

The newest arrival replied without even turning to glance at him, "No sir. I will be with Tavish for awhile."

Andre put a cigarette in his mouth and lit it. "I see."

••••••••••••••••

Toskia walked with the drunk merry-maker to his side of the base. She walked alittle ways behind him, in case he should fall and she might be able to catch him before he hit the floor.

His room was far from everyone else's. She could see why, this man slept with his explosives and alcohol. Come to think of it, _on_ his explosives, she assumed since there was no bed in sight and there was a pile of rockets and sacks of gun powder that had been flattened leaving a vague shape of a person in its centre.

Her line of sight then fell on an ashtray and a few unopened bottles of booze sitting on a crate next to his "bed", the crate acting as a make-shift bedside table. Also on the table was an unlit kerosene lamp. She could not decide which was more dangerous, the smoking or the kerosene lamp.

"Argh bonnie lass, I caen't call ya wee so... Thankye fer walkin' me here to me room." He said, smiling contentedly and sitting in his chair. His eye momentarily lit up when he said, "I'd like to see you in action killin' off them opposition!"

She looked about. The room though average-sized, seemed alot smaller since there were many stained wooden crates stacked on top of each other, filled with dynamite, plastic explosives, C4, bombs, powder kegs. Barrels of carbon and salt peter...

Tavish slumped forward onto his bomb-making table and mumbled something in gibberish, before snoring softly.

•••••••••••••••

Later into the afternoon, she observed the Soldier walking in the rain. He was juggling his grenades, Toskia wondered how he could see through his helmet covering half his face. Later when she got closer to him, he suddenly dropped them all into the dark mud, ran up to her, held her by the collar, and lifted her up shaking her asking if she was a Nazi.

She replied amidst the shouting and rain, over his distinct American accent that she was not.

When he heard "no" he put her down and began to pace up and down in the mud and dirt, giving her a classic briefing about how they were all "maggots" and that they were going to kill the other "maggots" on the other side. More than half the briefing was obscenities, the other part was useful instruction on how they were going to advance through territories and take the red base.

The Soldier, wet and shining from the rain at the time was holding a shovel, and every few sentences he would whack his wet helmet with it.

"I'm tellin' you now little missy!"

_WHACK_

"That you can't let yer guard down right down there on the goddamn field!"

_WHACK_

"Don't you got a pair of lips on you, sound off like you got a pair!"

"SIR YES SIR!"

"Them Red maggots are good because they win more matches than we do!"

_WHACK_

"You're not allowed to shiver in the rain lil' missy! Keep still!"

"S-sir yes Sir!" she cried.

"Good soldier!" Jane Doe fell onto his knees with a squelch, the rain coming down onto him and whacked his head with the shovel, or rather, rang his helmet with the shovel. Like how a mechanical alarm clock rings with its bells.

••••••••••••••

Dr. Metzger sat in his clinic. He picked up a scalpel, its hard and sterile edge catching the light and glinting. Spread before him were his other medical instruments, all clean and free of blood. The last to do was his Übersaw. He adjusted his glasses and held it up to the light, there was still blood on it.

It was only in battle that he felt his blood in his veins, his breath moving in his lungs. A little more alive when he was treating people's wounds, but when there was nothing to do...

Then someone knocked upon his door.

It broke him out of his reverie. A sick smile spread evilly on his face. Now who could it be this late Saturday afternoon? He crossed the threshold of his clinic, and walked into the adjoining infirmary. It had better not be the scout with some silly little injury. He hoped it would be someone else with usually something more serious. Maybe Pyro got seriously burnt, or the demoman blew off–

Landric stopped in his tracks at who it was. Oh no.

"I broke my leg doing a rocket jump." Toskia stated simply, limping into the empty infirmary.

The doctor did not respond but continued to stare. The girl– no, he mentally corrected himself, the _woman_ was also dripping wet. Already playing in his mind he wondered if she did this on purpose. Whoever heard of a new person being injured in less than 24 hours and on a weekend no less!

"What, are you upset you have to do work on a weekend?" Said Toskia, pulling up the leg of her pants without flinching or showing expression.

"Follow me mein fraulein."

He led the way, turning back to look at her. The hair at the back of his neck pricking from nervousness. He gestured to her to sit on the examination table, he watched more her face than her injury, searching it, trying to understand. As she limped there was blood mixed with mud from her shoes, leaving footprints.

An old emotion came back to the doctor. "Nien. I just think it stupid for you to attempt such a thing with that crazed self-proclaimed professional Soldier. Und furzher more in the rain." he said, his expression disapproving. "Strip off your vet clothes or you vill catch cold."

Landric went to get a blanket and returned watching Toskia curiously from the door frame of his office. She had her back to him. Toskia had grown stockier and more muscular, yet her pale body still remained supple, her torso arching easily as she lay herself shivering onto the table again. Her waist had remained small from when he remembered. Then of course there was his familiar surgical work, her whole body permanently marred with it.

Landric commented, "ach you're turning blue."

She looked up at him from her injury when Landric covered her bare and scarred body with the warm blanket, her blue eyes were unblinking and oddly blank. "This would be interesting for me doctor." she said.

He looked away from her gaze quickly and picked up his signature medigun, it made a scraping sound as it slid on the stainless steel table. "How so fraulein?"

"It works by nano technology correct?"

"Ja." Her character had not changed. Defiant and brave. Rocket jumping... perhaps he should scold her? He brought the medigun closer to her and put it on a table nearby.

Landric looked at her leg. Part of it was charred, her boot had protected her from most of the heat. The part that was troublesome was the broken bone visible from under her red and inflamed skin. A sadistic thought entered his mind. He could wrench the boot off painfully instead of cutting it open.

Dr. Metzger looked at her lying there, yes. It was very tempting to make her scream and writhe in pain. But back then... he was not quite like how he was now. His heart thumped. He mentally slapped himself for wanting to hurt her. How could he...?

"Doctor?"

Landric focused again and adjusted his round glasses. "Ja?"

"Will you give me some anaesthesia? I am in pain." The blond fraulein shivered, blinking. "Can it be morphine?"

Nervously he let her have her drug request. He watched her expression go blissfully blank after the shot. Re-alining the bone was no trouble after he cleaned it with alcohol swabs and iodine. He gave her a tight splint. Then he used his medigun on her.

While she was still doped, he wheeled the table into the recovery room and heaved her body onto a bed.

"Doctor?"

He stopped momentarily and replied, "ja?" Bloody hell, he thought he would never see her again, her voice was hauntingly familiar. Now he himself felt that he needed morphine. Did she really come to his room last night, or was it a dream? If she did do so, her acting like nothing had happened was unnerving.

"Can you bring me my metal? It is hanging on the back of the door of my room. It will comfort me." she whispered.

"Ja." His hand faltered and he fumbled with the cold door knob. She appeared to be still resistant to drugs, because people on morphine usually did not care about anything but the effect of the drug. They would just go into a content state of oblivion, not talk and ask questions.

••••••••••••

Landric was frowning as his feet carried him to his destination. The rain had stopped and the air was thick and humid. He found Toskia's room and when he opened it he was shocked to find the Spy standing right inside, in the middle of it. He was smoking.

"Vhat the hell are you doing here?" demanded the doctor.

The spy was twirling something tied on a cord on his leather gloved finger. He raised an eyebrow and retorted, "do you have an excuse to be here too?"

"I haff come to fetch my patient's keepsake."

"So she's gotten injured already?" asked the Spy. "We may have gotten the most useless class of mercenary just yet mon ami."

At the word 'useless' Landric snapped, "Vhat do you mean?" It struck a chord within him, it was an insult to his abilities.

"In a bad mood today I see." The Spy put both hands behind his back for a moment, then used one hand to gesture around the room. "Zhe woman has no weapons whatsoever. She only has harnesses and bags."

Landric kept silent, imagining what would it be like to forcefully jam a syringe into the Spy's eye.

The masked man continued, "Zhis is her patch symbol. No clue as to what she does, a hand. Zhe Pyro has a flame, the Demoman has a bomb... A hand? Hand-to-hand combat? Zhat would be perfectly ineffective and useless. Zhe woman would be shot before she can get in range."

Landric sighed and walked a few steps into the room, and turned over the door only to find an empty nail in the back of it.

"Looking for zhis?" Andre dangled the thing in front of his face.

"Ja. Give it to me."

"Here."

"Danke."

"Not so fast. What's zhis woman to you? I noticed you did not introduce yourself to her last night." The espionage expert narrowed his eyes. "By zhe way you behave, you know her do you not?"

"It is none of your business." Landric said flatly, turning to leave. "Und stop smoking in her room."

•••••••••••••••

Back in the clinic, once he had passed Toskia her keepsake, and made sure she was all right, Dr. Metzger locked himself in his clinic and gave himself through syringe a shot of morphine. This time he needed it. He wondered what sort of person Toskia had grown up into.

Archimedes his pet dove sat at the window sill ever watching and always keeping him company. The bird would never tell anyone or judge his actions. The bird would never feel contempt or disgust at his habits. The bird would always love him and accept him.

"Archimedes... I am done for."

••••••••••••••

**End Of Chapter 1**


	2. A Blue Barbecue

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION NOTHING MORE. TEAM FORTRESS 2 BELONGS TO VALVE CORPORATION.**

Names: (Story was started on 29 November 2010, not all characters have been named hence the need to come up with own names)

Spy: Andre

Heavy: Sokov

Sniper: Nigel

Soldier: Jane Doe (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Medic: Landric Metzger

Demoman: Tavish DeGroot (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Engineer: Dell Conagher (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Pyro: Pyro

Scout: Dillan

OC: Toskia Van der Meer

**BOOSTER**

**CHAPTER 2**

A Team Fortress 2 fan-fic

•••••••••••••

"Are you a cross-dresser or somethin'?"

"No." Replied Toskia.

"Did you use to be a dude?"

"No." She looked up at the youngest member of the team, the Scout. He was the only team member of whom came right to her of his own accord, and so required the least amount of investigation on her part. From what she understood the Red team had the same classes of mercenary. She did not bother to care about the fact that none of that made sense, that the Red team members happened to coincidentally look identical to the Blue team's, with her one-track mind she only cared about assisting Blue and winning. For now.

"So where you from man?" Dillan mused out loud, grinning.

"Holland, Netherlands."

"So whatcha' do?" The young man had questions pouring ceaselessly from his mouth.

"You will find out tomorrow. If not tomorrow the day after tomorrow."

"Aw! Hey lady c'mon man! Tell me! Tell me!" he repeated. He was sitting on the chair of her study table in her quarters, leaning back on it so it was balanced on just two of its legs.

She supposed the Scout's job was to kill the enemy with lethal levels of irritation and frustration.

While he sat there talking and talking like a... well there was nothing like the Scout actually, she sat there on her bed thinking about what she was going to do.

Finally, tomorrow. She would be able to try her hand.

"Cool man, y' know there's going to be fireworks tonight along with the barbecue!"

"How charming." Toskia muttered.

"I like hotdogs, don'cha like hotdogs! Just like at the baseball games me and my brothers used to go to!"

Toskia sighed and entertained him. "With ketchup and mustard."

"That's the stuff man!"

She looked at his young face. It was like how the world was, he looked innocent and untouched by the stresses and broken dreams older people had, but she knew he was a killer like everyone else. Looks were always deceiving, and held no relation to how a person really was in character.

•••••••••••••

A LONG TIME AGO IN YESTERYEAR...

It is in a library in Germany. Two men pretending to be browsing for medical journals and references are talking to each other silently.

*Italics in German

"_You are working for Dr. Landric Metzger? Who, the mad scientist? Why didn't you tell me?_" The tall nurse whispered dubiously, taking out a book from the shelf.

"_He knows what he's doing!_" Insisted the short nurse confidently. "_And I am paid well..._"

"_Out of ten people only one survived._" Exclaimed the other, widening his eyes abit as he stressed the word, "_one_."

"_But the patient is responding well._" The short nurse put back the book he had open in his hand, and stepped aside abit to pretend to look at the other dusty volumes on the same shelf.

"_You mean the doctor has succeeded?_"

"_Well, abit._" he whispered excitedly. "_It's a woman_."

"_I hear the treatment is very, very painful? How long has she been kept alive by the madman?_"

"_More than a year already. The doctor is brilliant I tell you. Perhaps in time with other subjects..._"

The tall nurse thought for abit, and put a book back into the shelf. "_A woman? Assuming all the rest were men, it is surprising she survived. Where's she from, is she German_?"

"_She's not German, I just know that she is very young, and that she is a volunteer_."

"_She isn't a child is she? Wouldn't her family be concerned or against this_?"

•••••••••••

BACK TO THE PRESENT:

Out in the open, the Blue team sat about watching the twinkling stars in the dark blue night sky. Dell had a barbecue burning, and he sat nearby languidly playing his guitar. He was singing a country song about everything being fair in love and war.

Pyro sat "talking" to Toskia. They were sitting on wooden barrels labelled, "Fragile."

"Mmmff mpph mphh?"

"No."

"Mmmpphh mmmpph hmm?"

"Yes." she replied. She saw him as an interesting person with alot of depth in his character, especially the words of wisdom that came from his rubber fume mask.

"And what are your thoughts on participating in this crazy war against the Red team?"

"Ooof mmmhh mmhhh hmmm. Uhhmmm hmmm mmmph." The round glass eyes of his mask glinting knowingly, reflecting the flames of the charcoal burning.

"Never thought of it that way." Toskia said, thinking how brilliant. She could not have put it better herself. The man was a genius.

"All right mates we can put our scoff on the barbe' just about now." called Nigel the Sniper. In his thin arms he carried a plastic ice box.

"Pyro..." began Van der Meer, "how will you eat like that?"

"Mmmh hhm." He replied with his black-gloved finger pointing upwards, indicating a hidden agenda.

"Just be quiet and vatch." Came the slow voice of the Russian. "I never get tired vatching." He turned his head and tilted it once in Pyro's direction. "Is fascinating."

The Blue team found Toskia's reaction more interesting that night than what the Pyro did occasionally. They watched with amusement her open mouth, eyes wide with astonishment and then the part when she started laughing as the Pyro began to eat.

The design of the black rubber mask was evidently custom. The part that held the filter could be unscrewed entirely, leaving nothing but a black "snout" in which he would stick his fork or whatever utensil in to eat.

"I can't stand it." Toskia was laughing, as Pyro cut a piece of juicy steak, speared it onto his fork and stuck it into his mask.

After that crucial moment of watching Toskia's reaction, everyone went about their usual barbecuing activities.

Jane was frying hamburger patties on his trench-digging shovel. Disgusting, but perfectly hygienic according to the Medic, (who was roasting his sausages) since all the bacteria would be dead. As long as there was no grime all would be fine.

Sokov after having a few drinks with the alcoholic Demoman started singing "To Russia With Love", and then they decided to try something new like barbecued sandviches. (Which tasted quite nice actually.)

She sighed, watching and slowly chewing her roasted meat. The last time she did something like this was easily an unhealthy decade ago. Then again she never was much of a social butterfly.

They were having a shooting competition now. Jane was hurling (the target) grenades up into the air– with the pins removed. Tavish was keeping score wisely at a good and safe distance away. Every time one nearly fell to the ground without being shot, Pyro would laugh and clap his black gloved hands.

The Spy turned away from shooting with his gun, and came over to speak to Toskia. "Mon cherie, so. How are you adjusting?" Half his face lit from the warm orange lights from the lamps.

"I have not even started a week being in the field, and so adjustment has not even begun yet." she stated the logical.

"You make a good point." The Spy lit another cigarette, and habitually breathed it in. The sound of his exhale very different from the tone of his voice.

She looked at the Medic standing far off, talking to the Engineer. Their eyes met for a moment, before Metzger looked away as if nothing had happened.

"Are you listening to me mon cherie?"

"Forgive me I wasn't." she admitted. "What were you saying again?"

"Zhat I like healthy competition among team mates. Is your class related to mine in any way? For example zhe Medic works best with zhe Heavy, zhe Demoman can work with zhe Engineer in traps and clever devices?"

She frowned at that question. After a moment, listening to the ambience of the evening she said, "I would work best with the Sniper then. Requiring him to cover me."

As an afterthought she told Andre, "You are fortunate you can work alone. I much dislike being dependant on anyone."

"Mon petite, you are very good at dodging my questions. Now I guess I shall ask you directly now, making it impossible to subtly change zhe subject." He narrowed his eyes dragging on his cigarette, and blowing out the grey smoke. "What is your job and what do you do? I am not as patient or as oblivious as zhe rest of zhe team."

"I also may be able to work well with you, since you are a Spy. But more information, I'd dare not say."

"And why not?"

"When something has not happened yet, never say it or it might not come true."

"What rubbish." When he said that, another loud bang sounded as another grenade blew up, amidst cheers.

Suddenly Dr. Metzger joined in on the conversation, he patted the Spy's shoulder and said, "Vhat, do you find _this_ team member a threat to you Andre?" He held his gaze longer than usual implying Andre's earlier comment on their new team member.

Andre did not answer, but abruptly and yet calmly walked away.

Dillan who was nearby with a stick of half-burnt marshmallows said, "What's his problem yo?"

Toskia said, "Something personal maybe."

Dillan said with his mouth full, "He ain't usually like that."

"Nien."

Another explosion sounded in the distance. But this one was particularly loud.

Toskia turned and muttered. "I thought for a moment there that DeGroot decided to try and put some of his bombs on the grill."

The Medic smiled with his eyes directed downwards, and then started to guffaw. "Fraulein I don't think he would ever do that even 'ven more intoxicated than usual, he would haff' to have suffered a concussion and gone stupid maybe."

She smiled at the doctor, trying to see his face in the dim light.

"Yeah! HA HA! So Toskia, need any help ta'morrow?" asked the Scout Dillan, waving his bandaged hand.

"My class requires subtlety. I shall be fine." She looked up. "I will tell you if I need help though."

"Okay."

After the barbecue ended, Toskia followed the lanky Sniper quietly to where his quarters were before calling out to him.

"Nigel?"

He jumped abit in the glow of the electric lights. "Oh yeah. You gave me a start right there love." He took off his hat, and looked her up and down. "So what's up?"

Toskia bowed her blond head once, and replied. "Tomorrow I would be grateful if you could cover me while I scale the walls of the enemy's base. I will be fine once I get past there. Once I am on the roof, you can go about your usual sniping."

"Sure mate." He nodded. "I look forward to seeing what you do.

•••••••••••

The voice of the administrator sounded over the P.A. system. "Mission starts in sixty seconds."

Van der Meer was in her room, strapping on her harness and wearing her gloves. The world was blank now to her, there only seemed to be herself. Even though she could hear the heavy leather boots of the Soldier thundering past outside her door, with him yelling.

Then she emerged from her safe place of solace, everything moving along in a blur in the blank spaces before her where her feet fell and moved in their own accord like an automaton.

A few more steps, one more turn in the blankness, and the harsh light of day stuck her like a ram.

"Mission begins!" Came the voice of the administrator again.

Nigel yelled from wherever he had hidden himself at. "All roight shiela I'm covering ya, GO!"

The blue Sniper watched through his rifle scope how his new team mate moved. She was dressed in a blue coveralls with various black straps and harnesses on her. She was fast with great balance he would give her that. Presently she was running along the top of a wooden fence without stopping or stumbling, like a circus performer even though the fence was uneven in height.

He thought to himself, "Still not as fast as that bloody Scout though." He flexed his thin shoulders and scanned the area with his scope. The area was mostly clear since she was taking the long way there. There were shouts, gunfire chatter and then the first explosion echoed in the distance, followed by an ear-shattering scream of someone dying. Then a loud thud.

He frowned, for a moment he thought he had lost her, then she reappeared again, now climbing up a flat wall already at the enemy's base. "There you are..." he thought. He zoomed in with his scope to look at her climbing equipment. They were labelled "Mann Co."

When he saw her enter a tin roof window, he mentally congratulated her and then went about looking for people to gun down through his scope. He had successfully covered her.

••••••••••••••••••

**End Of Chapter 2**

**The review button beckons, CLICK IT. Such things like reviews**

**will motivate me and make me work faster.**

**Yours truly, M.O.S.**


	3. Kiss Me Here

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION NOTHING MORE. TEAM FORTRESS 2 BELONGS TO VALVE CORPORATION.**

Names: (Story was started on 29 November 2010, not all characters have been named hence the need to come up with own names)

Spy: Andre

Heavy: Sokov

Sniper: Nigel

Soldier: Jane Doe (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Medic: Landric Metzger

Demoman: Tavish DeGroot (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Engineer: Dell Conagher (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Pyro: Pyro

Scout: Dillan

OC: Toskia Van der Meer

**BOOSTER**

**CHAPTER 3**

A Team Fortress 2 Fan-fic

It was the evening of the first day the new arrival had participated in the field, and the nightly ceasefire had just begun. At the sound of the bell ringing signifying its start, everyone stopped what they were doing on the battlefield. From screaming, taunting and firing their weapons noisily, they just all fell silent, turned their backs on the opposite sides and quietly walked back into their respective bases.

Today, both sides held their own well. There was no advancing, or retreating. But of course the administrator was not happy about it, calling them both "losers" since it was a draw. A stalemate.

With sighs and grunts of dismissing the administrator, the Blue team mercenaries walked back to their quarters to lay down their weapons, after which they would go to the canteen for dinner.

Landric was in a good mood. He had killed the Red team's Scout with his bone saw eight sweet times that day. He decided to take the medical instrument with him to dinner that night, as a personal trophy and a mark of achievement. Why look at it, it was beautiful in all its blood-coated glory! Even the handle was red. The sounds of the Red Scout screaming were still pleasantly ringing in his head, and his most favourite incident was the second last one. When he had cornered the Red Scout in the basement, who was cowering with syringes sticking all over him. It was like a work of modern installation art.

"Get a load of the doc still wearing his rape face mates!" Laughed the Sniper waiting for his food.

"Cheers mates! Who cae'res aboot what the angry lady says!" hooted the Demoman.

"Hmmph mmmh mhhh eeee." Said Pyro, pointing at the Medic's saw on the table.

"I was watchin' pals. Give Metzger a round of applause, he didn't kick the bucket a single solitary time today." Clapped Dell, nodding in his yellow construction hat.

"Man I died like... I don't know lost count. But many times today! Jeez." complained Dillan, rubbing the top of his head.

"Today I die six times." muttered the Heavy. He plucked off the green olive topping one of his sandwiches and tossed it into his mouth.

"If kamikaze counts, I died twenty four times." The Soldier blew on his shiny brass bugle loudly, causing everyone to cringe in the room.

The Demoman had already fallen asleep with his head in his arm, on the canteen table.

"Say," the Blue Spy spoke while holding a lighted cigarette. "Where is our newest team member?"

"Right here chain-smoker."

Landric and everyone turned their heads to one of the windows of the canteen. Seated on the window sill was the short-haired woman.

"I must say that you weren't very useful." commented Andre.

She looked up from the window sill and replied, "I agree. I am habitually useless on the first day."

Unlike everybody else in the room the Spy remained unsurprised by her honest answer. "Zhen what is it that your class requires you to do?" He raised an eyebrow.

Feeling the tension, Dell Conagher spoke up with both his hands waving in the air. "All right, all right. Dinner's ready."

"What are you, her nanny? Give her a break man." Shrugged Dillan, tucking into his hot food.

Landric nodded formally to her as she sat down next to him. As he ate, he kept imagining that she was looking at him, and found himself disappointed a few times when he looked up to see that she was not. He felt her presence more strongly than before it seemed, it was unsettling.

While he ate, Landric kept thinking about his conversations with her all those years ago in Germany in the mountains. She was charming, intelligent, and yet innocent at the same time without being naive. It was while she was under his care.

••••••••••••

A LONG TIME AGO IN YESTERYEAR...

"Betreuer."

"Why do you call me that?"

"Because isn't that what you are?"

"Ja, I suppose. Now take your antibiotics or risk infection." Landric pushed a brown bottle to within the girl's reach, the bottle making the common sound of glass grating over wood.

"Yes betreuer."

"Go on. Hurry up."

He looked at the blond girl sitting up in bed, she was staring idly at the bottle of medicine near her.

"What's wrong mein fraulein?" he asked.

"The medicine makes me sleepy. I would rather talk to you for abit before I go to sleep. Betreuer, the days have been passing by so quickly, and even though I am asleep, I am lonely." Her blue eyes were wide and attentive, imploring.

••••••••••••

BACK TO THE PRESENT...

Even after Landric had finished his meal, he sat there with a mug of beer just observing Toskia through his glasses. But he did not have much time to do so, once she had finished, she nodded her blond head once, gave him a restrained smile and then went off.

A sudden impulse took possession of the doctor, and he followed her. Leaving team mates who were not finished behind in the noisy canteen, with talk and utensils clattering against porcelain. But where was she going? The direction she was taking was all wrong! If she was going to retire to her room, she would have turned that way and walked on.

His eyes widened momentarily when he saw her knock on the Spy's room. When the door opened revealing the Spy saying something, Landric stood back and hid himself. He looked downwards, swallowed once and blinked a few times before leaving for his own quarters.

••••••••••••••

"So mon cherie, I must apologise for my earlier behaviour. I have little patience in being kept in zhe dark. I like to know everything, immediately." Andre reclined in the chair of his room, then picked up another cigarette. "Cigarette?"

"No thank you." she said, observing the change in which the Spy regarded her. Since he was satisfied now that he knew what she did.

The Blue Spy's room was. A very normal-looking room actually. The mark of a good spy, looking as normal as possible. There were a few French books and magazines about gardening. A box of cigarettes. His room smelt of (of course cigarettes and) cologne.

Her gaze fell on his equipment. In one of his gadgets he even had a special strap for holding cigarettes and cigarillos. She wondered why certain people seemed most likely to contract lung cancer did not, and why some very unlikely people who led healthy lifestyles caught it anyway.

The Spy noticing her expression said, laying a gloved hand on his chest. "MMmm. I like cancer."

Toskia laughed loudly at that.

He let out a puff of smoke, and then leaned forward abit. "May I inquire about your past? What were you doing before you worked for Blutarch Mann?"

"Who does not work for either Redmond or Blutarch Mann?" she asked, implying half the world indirectly controlled by either perpetually discontent brothers.

"I mean before you came to work here, at the front line. Logically you would be on zhe Blue's side of the world... Unlike zhe rest of us, since zhe Red team has been left out on zhis experiment." Thought Andre aloud, holding his cigarette and looking into space.

"Me on both sides would be impractical, expensive."

"All right I understand mon cherie. If I told you my past, would you tell me yours in return?" The Blue Spy offered.

Van der Meer smirked a crooked smile and nodded once in affirmation, leaning back further into her seat ready to listen.

Andre stubbed out his burning cancer stick into an ashtray, and audibly cleared his throat before beginning.

"You see cherie, I used to work for Zhe Service de Documentation Extérieure et de Contre-Espionnage. In English, External Documentation and Counter-Espionage Service, or SDECE for short." He gave a sigh of discontentment.

He continued, "back zhen when things actually made sense. When things were professional and clean. And when I didn't need to get my suit and hands dirty. But I was too good at what I did, and. It is a secret that I am zhe only one forced to be here."

He looked at her seriously, and continued.

"Someone was hired by zhe administrator. I was in zhe the middle of a mission to gather intelligence from zhe King of Australia's drunken beer wrestling court. We needed to find out why he did not have a proper moustache unlike zhe rest of his sophisticated shirtless subjects, and schematics for zheir latest teleportation devices. I was coerced to take a drug. When I came to, I was in a cell.

"For a few days, zhe bastards would only let me have either food and water, or cigarettes. Of course I chose the latter, or I would have died from cold turkey nicotine withdrawal. I am here because I do not have a choice, but don't complain because I am paid." He finished.

Toskia asked, "Have you heard of this wonderful substance known as 'Australium?"

"Zhat is classified, I don't know how you know about it, but your ploy is not working. What's your story mon cherie?" The Spy was frowning. He had momentarily forgotten to smoke.

"You certainly are sharp my good Sir. Before I came here, I worked for a private company, called BEACON." Toskia lowered her voice to a whisper, "There, I worked as–"

•••••••••••••

Tonight's routine of scrubbing himself down in the shower was not at all the same for Landric. Usually his mind would be turned off and at rest, but tonight through the hot water and soap he worried about Van der Meer. Of course she was capable of fighting back, but he felt, uncomfortable about it all. He much rather she speak to the Spy in a common area, where they could be seen and heard.

As the relaxing hot water poured onto his bare skin, he stood there looking at the generic white tiles of his bathroom.

His birds were happily bathing in his sink, filled to the brim with warm water. The trio took turns plunging in and hopping out, cooing cheerfully.

He got out of the shower and quickly towelled himself off, and then put on his night shirt. Looking at himself in the mirror, he oddly felt so detached, as though he himself was not real. The nights and weekends were his enemies, it was when he had nothing to do when anxiety and loneliness would creep up on him and assault him.

"Galileo, Archimedes! Stop bullying her!" Sighed the Medic. "Boys will be boys..." He walked over to the sink to unplug it and drain away the warm water. He picked up the female dove being harassed and patted her dry with the towel while she fluffed her feathers gratefully.

He left the bathroom lit by white light, and went into his dark bedroom. He did not even bother turning on the lights, instead he fumbled the handles of his cabinet looking for his sedatives.

A voice suddenly came from a corner of his room. Her voice.

"Please don't do that." she said.

Words escaped Landric when he turned his head and just stood there mutually silent.

"It helps you to cope with what?" she asked.

That sentence both put him at unease and instilled a small thrill within him. So it was not a dream, she came to visit him before. He countered with another question, "You came zat night didn't you?"

Toskia dipped her head slowly once in a nod, her intense blue eyes never leaving his grey ones. Without his glasses her figure was blurry, but he could see that she too was wearing the Blue team's night shirt.

He did not know what to say at that, a part of him wanted to hold her, to bring her to his bed to embrace and to share his warmth with. Another part wanted to distance himself from her, and to send her out of his room. He kept thinking about how she was before, ages ago it seemed under his personal care.

He said, "It helps me to cope with myself. Come forward so zat I might see you better." He squinted abit, turning his head a little.

She stepped forward to him, and then closed whatever distance there was between them. "I thought I would never see you again." she breathed, her head resting on his collarbone. "Cope with yourself?"

He thought of stepping backwards, but could not bring himself to do so, instead he unsteadily felt for her hands and held them.

"Betreuer, I've missed you." Toskia told him.

He held her hands tighter at that title. "It has been so long. Where did you go?"

Her reply was, that she could not remember. What had he done to her? She asked if she could lay down with him upon his bed. He did not refuse. His emotions and thoughts were as blurred and as confused as his vision.

He let her lay down next to him tucked in the sheets and blanket. His heart was hammering awkwardly, "Vhy?" he asked softy. He had his chin on the top of her head, whilst he held her in his arms.

"If you ask another question tonight I will leave." she said into his neck, Landric could feel her lips moving upon his skin.

It meant he could not say, much of anything, because everything in his mind was a question tonight. His breathing was becoming ever so slightly heavier with her so close, he could feel her heart beating through the cotton of their night shirts. He closed his eyes carefully contemplating what to say.

It seemed that Toskia had come out of nowhere back into his life again so suddenly, and so close. She was now in his arms, gentle and seemingly safe. It felt unreal.

He could not ask, but he could plead. "Fraulein please say something, don't be silent like zis."

"Don't tremble." she said. "I like your pet doves... do they have names?"

"They do. Archimedes, Galileo and Boudicca."

••••••••••••

A LONG TIME AGO IN YESTERYEAR...

*Italics in German

It is in the parade square of a scientific facility. The weather is cool today, being just the start of spring. Three doctors in white coats watch a blond girl running around the square, and exercising at the outdoor gym. The air is fresh, and the plants are growing green all around.

"_Her last operation was two months ago. She still admits of slight aching, but it is working. She heals faster, and now can jump from over twenty feet down and her joints and tendons can take the shocks very well_." said Dr. Marx.

Another doctor, holding a stopwatch and clipboard said in a satisfied manner, "_Her grip has improved, and she was able to hang on a ledge for more than 3 hours. Think of what she can do with training_."

Dr. Metzger said adjusting his round glasses, "_But my work might be in vain. Only she survived, even though the costs for treatment are practical_."

Dr. Marx shook his head and shrugged his shoulders once. "_You know the irony. If they funded us more less would die. But it would be too expensive if we wanted this many enhanced soldiers. But cheaper, well, survival rate is 10%_."

"_At any rate_," chirped the third doctor, "_you've done it Metzger. She may not be superhuman, but she's certainly more than a normal human at least_."

Marx smirked and said slyly, "_If this is not used for the army, we could always sell this or do this for private clients. Our clients being athletes and sporting people_."

Metzger watched the young blond girl now climbing up a tall ladder. "_Hmm. We still do have to watch and see, for the long-term effects. For tendon enhancement we have already done her hands. Why not more_?"

The two other doctors exchanged glances, before looking at their colleague shrewdly.

Metzger noticed the silence and said casually, "_She has very high pain tolerance. She can take it_."

••••••••••

BACK TO THE PRESENT...

"But everything I want to say is a question Toskia..." Landric said softly, his bare hand stroking her back. It was only in the nights that his hands were not covered by his light blue rubber gloves. The skin on his hands could breathe and feel much better without them.

"I'll answer your questions if you answer mine." said the woman.

He gasped in surprise when he felt her teethe his neck gently. "All right." he answered.

She shifted in his arms and asked looking into his grey eyes, "are you a drug addict now?"

"Ja." he whispered a reply, embarrassed. He felt like he was a shameful child who was caught, doing something he was told not to do.

"And it helps you cope with what? You can trust me."

"Loneliness. Und... I have not enough mental stimulation... my abilities are vasted here." He felt colour rising to his cheeks at her touch, she was rubbing his chest and his shoulders now. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on his question.

"Toskia... w-vhere have you been working... before you came here?"

"I was working as an employee at BEACON."

"... what?" Landric stopped stroking her back. "Nien, I would have preferred you worked as something else-"

"It's fine betreuer, I was paid very well."

"Toskia..." he said. He thought to himself, was he to blame? But of course, she would be more than capable for such a job. "Let me ask you just one question tonight, are you all right?"

She shifted on his body, and began to pull back the blanket. It was getting warm sharing each other's body heat. Landric mistook that gesture, thinking that she wanted to go he pulled her tighter to his body.

No, I'm not leaving... I am better now, and I am happy to have found you." She resumed her former position, and laid her head onto his chest.

Landric squeezed her and said, "I really thought zhat I would never see you again as well. I wondered vhat became of you."

Her hands were slowly stroking the sides of his body, and he worried when she began to pull down his night shirt feeling for his bare skin beneath it. Then she was kissing his neck, his heart was beating so fast! With her over him, pressing her body harder over his...

He wanted her to stop, he just was so relieved to see her again. She had become a different person from how she was. She was still lovely yes, but not like this. Yet he guiltily enjoyed her touch, and the sound of her breathing. Her hands had now moved to his thighs, and her head was on his stomach. His head was spinning pleasantly, and he felt very hard. He knew she could surely see his arousal.

When he felt her hand grasp his most sensitive of areas, he closed his eyes and said. "Nien not zhere. Kiss me here." He heaved her up to his face and for the first time passionately kissed her mouth.

As he kissed her, he held her head and felt her soft blond hair, running his fingers through it. He drew back from the kiss, panting heavily just to look at her. Her face was abit fuzzy in his vision, but he could look into her blue eyes, he felt like he could drown in them... they were so deep.

She initiated another kiss, running her tongue on his thin lips, and she slipped it into his unprotesting mouth. The way she tasted, it was wonderful. It had been such a long time since he had intimate contact with anyone, it showed in the manner in which he moaned and pulled her closer.

She sighed into his ear, running her fingers over the top of his head. "I understand you would not approve, but then again our present professions are not exactly very respectable aren't they?"

"No." He said, stroking the back of her neck, tracing her hairline with his fingertips. He opened his grey eyes and said, "This is wrong... I should not–"

Toskia shifted her weight upon him, Landric could not read her expression, it was too dim and he did not have his glasses. He saw her shake her head slowly a few times, and then she got up and left.

He called out to her as she left, "Toskia. Gute nacht."

••••••••••

**End of Chapter 3**

This chapter is dedicated to:

**chime-chan, The Bullet Sponge, WarPigKiller and vGlitch **


	4. Not Interested But Concerned

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION NOTHING MORE. TEAM FORTRESS 2 BELONGS TO VALVE CORPORATION.**

Names: (Story was started on 29 November 2010, not all characters have been named hence the need to come up with own names)

Spy: Andre

Heavy: Sokov

Sniper: Nigel

Soldier: Jane Doe (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Medic: Landric Metzger

Demoman: Tavish DeGroot (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Engineer: Dell Conagher (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Pyro: Pyro

Scout: Dillan

OC: Toskia Van der Meer

**BOOSTER**

**CHAPTER 4**

A Team Fortress 2 Fan-fic

It was the second day Nigel had covered Toskia. But today was different, the Sheila brought her backpack along with her. It was massive. It reached from her shoulders down to her thighs. Funny, she still moved just as fast. He guessed it was empty.

Nigel peered into his scope again, and grinned at the sight of an exposed head just visible over the fence line. A red helmet bobbed into view and he happily pulled the trigger. He watched with morbid satisfaction as the body of the Red Soldier ran headless about for a moment, his neck spurting blood, before falling limply into the red dust.

At the sound of a creak behind him, he yelled and swung his gun about. It hit the intended target. A masked man appeared, after his cloaking device malfunctioned.

"Not this time ya' don't!" He viciously aimed a kick at the Red Spy and missed.

The Sniper stepped back and dodged a swipe from his assailant's butterfly knife, and managed to punch the man squarely in his face.

"I'm going to gut you like a cornish game hen!" The Spy's sharp knife sliced open Nigel's right forearm.

In pain, Nigel kicked a table into the Spy's general direction, and as it clattered onto the dusty floor, he drew his jungle knife. He was quicker than the Spy this balmy afternoon, and made the Spy his frog for dissection.

Staring down at the fallen corpse, the Blue Sniper cursed at him. "You gave away my position you mook."

He began to quickly climb down the water tower he had hid himself in, and he ran towards the Blue base to where the supplies were, clutching his bleeding arm. At this rate he did not give a damn at subtlety because the whole world would be able to follow his splotchy blood trail.

"Medic!" Nigel cried. He panicked and ran faster at the sight of the Red Demoman, the Scotsman was screaming at the top of his lungs with his sticky bomb launcher.

Nigel managed to make it to the base, without getting any of those fearful spiky things stuck onto his body. He slammed the shutters down in relief, and stumbled forward inside the industrial surroundings of the place, searching for the supplies cabinet.

There was surely something wrong with the Red Demoman outside in the hot sun, he did not cease screaming. Nigel could still hear him. Then there was a loud bang.

The shutters came up and Sokov with Metzger came in. Their bodies were still glowing blue, and as their yellow eyes returned to normal along with the rest of their bodies, they sighed shaking off the overpowering sensation.

Nigel gasped, trying to ignore his bleeding arm. "Didcha get the wanker with his own bombs?"

The Heavy put down his black mini-gun Sasha and growled. "No. He blow himself into lee'tle bits with detonator."

Nigel took off his hat and mopped his damp brow. "What tried to take himself out with ya?"

"Nien." Landric came forward with his medigun and aimed it at the Sniper. "It was by accident. The Red Demoman has not been able to aim straight since a few hours ago.

"Huh?"

"Lee'tle black man was also scre...e..eaming whole time. Is like mental sickness." Sokov commented, walking leisurely to the supplies cabinet to get more bullets for his Sasha.

Nigel flexed his arm as his wound stopped bleeding. "Tell me about this later at dinner mates, I got to go cover our girl."

"You're working with Toskia?" asked the Medic, looking up attentively from his medigun.

"Yeah, I covered her while she infiltrated the Red base. "Gotta go now." Taking up more bullets, Nigel ran off. He turned his head while he ran to say, "I got abit of a clue what she does!"

•••••••••••••••

Dinner that night in the Blue Base was one amusing and fun filled with triumph. The menu that night comprised of beef steak, vegetables and mashed potatoes.

They had managed to capture a point and claimed it as Blue.

"A round of applause for our newest class and team member." said Dell in the canteen, taking off his yellow construction hat.

Amidst the short applause Toskia stood up and comically curtseyed, and then put one foot upon her black backpack. It was full and stuffed, it toppled over from the weight of her foot and the contents spilled out. Bottles and bottles of the Red Demoman's scrumpy, rolled onto the canteen floor with their labels of "XXX" spinning haphazardly, clinking off each other.

Tavish blinked his single eye at the sight and laughed. "Och' Lass tha's a right cruel thing ya' did right there to the enemy demoman!" He banged the table with his fist and took a swig of beer, foam froth still on his upper lip he continued. "I bet ma' rear end it's why he wasn't able to shoot straight todae!"

The Red Demoman that day was actually more a bane than help to his allies, and with so much confusion, he actually blew some of his own team mates up into smithereens. It was how Blue took advantage of it and easily captured the point.

The Heavy, with his sumptuous steak half eaten already said, "First started as enemy Demoman being careless. By near end of day, he was crying and screaming like baby."

"Spy still managed to get my sentry guns though." said Dell wistfully. He held a large serving bowl of mashed potatoes, and plopped abit onto Nigel's plate.

While Dell was passing the bowl to Landric, the Australian ocker looked up brightly and exclaimed, "I got the wanker for ya' late in the afternoon. He nearly stabbed me at the water tower over there."

"You did? Well I'll be."

It was one of the rare times Pyro joined them in the canteen. Perhaps he was there to celebrate their victory. Usually he would wander to his quarters and listen to music or immediately turn on his favourite movies to watch. He looked on through his glass eyes, muffled laughter issuing from his black rubber mask.

"Sit next to me and eat up son." said Doe, motioning to Pyro.

Before he took his place next to the hungry soldier, the rubber and asbestos suited fellow walked towards Toskia's bag and bent down to pick up a brown bottle of scrumpy. Sitting next to the soldier, he stuck a straw through his mask filter and uncorked the bottle of alcoholic cider.

Blue Demoman leaned back and watched expectantly with a grin, his white teeth showing more clearly contrasting with his dark skin as he rubbed his short beard.

As there was a resounding "pop" from the cork Toskia asked, "How does it taste?"

Pyro shook his head vigourously, and there was a muffled cough. "Mmmmmmmmmm!"

"Pass it here mate! Let me have a try!"

Andre held the bottle with disdain muttering that he would rather have a good French wine any day, any time, passed the brown bottle as it glinted in the electric lights of the canteen to Nigel.

"Cri'ke." he said at the taste.

"The enemy Demoman vill now be suffering from alcohol withdrawal." Mused Dr. Metzger out loud. "It is most unpleasant, he has already started crying from what I saw this afternoon."

Andre chewed on his steak and turned his masked head to face the merry Demoman to ask, "How long would this supply have lasted you?"

"A week." Tavish said. "I'd surely go mad from it. The supply truck comes in once a week as we all knoo' it."

"HA HA HA. Red demo-maggot-man will be A-Wall for the next few days soldiers!" rejoiced Doe, catching the opened bottle of scrumpy thrown to him by Nigel. He took a swig and coughed. He pointed to the subject of his interest. "Just look out the window men!"

Everyone simultaneously turned their heads, coupled with the sound of chairs screeching off the floors and then dead silence. The song of chirping crickets could be heard.

Out the window, in the starry night was the Red base in the distance. Like Blue's they had their canteen joining their kitchen on the second floor. The yellow lights shone through in beams from their windows, and they could hear the faraway echoing cries of a distraught and very disturbed Scotsman, followed by the shrill and yet soft noises of glass breaking, and then the silhouette of the shouting Red demoman falling out of the building as a finale.

The Scout was the first to break the silence. "Oooo, that's gonna smart in the morning man." Laughed Dillan.

"Mmmhh hmmhhh mmmh. Mmm ppphh mmhh hmm!" said Pyro pointing, and then slapping his head.

The room erupted in laughter with Blue team members clutching their sides, and wiping tears from their eyes.

"Ja, ja!" Gasped Landric his accent becoming heavier through bouts of laughter and excitement. "Ze zhingks you say! Mein gott!"

"Laddie' if the Re'ad team does that ta one of their 'own, I'll pour a bottle of me scrumpy over ma head ta'morrow!" He paused and drank deeply from his beer glass and continued, "and fight all wet!" He pointed his finger at no-one in particular and laughed.

"Hhhhlll." Pyro mirrored the gesture.

Not long after that, everyone continued eating their food. Landric wanted to sit with Toskia, but the Sniper was already talking to her animatedly. Landric Metzger watched as he took off his hat and laid it aside, a rare polite gesture the Australian performed.

The doctor could overhear their conversation, Nigel was asking Toskia about her training regimens if she had any, and that he found it amazing that she could keep her balance with all that loot in her backpack–

"Why so quiet doctor?" asked the Spy sitting in front of Landric, with two small bowls of chocolate pudding. He slid one to Landric over the table with a spoon already thrust into it.

"Danke." The Medic muttered.

Andre leaned forward and whispered in a condescending tone, "You as a German would most likely need advice on romance no?"

Landric gave the Spy a gormless look in the eye, although his face did not move a muscle.

The Spy pushed on gently and yet with cutting jest, his blue eyes twinkling through his balaclava. "Now who is it who attracts you, Nigel or our new-comer?"

Landric took a spoon of the sweet pudding into his mouth and after swallowing said smoothly, "Andre you have just insulted my country und my masculinity in less zhan a minute."

The French man replied with a smile and said, "But you Germans really need to lighten up. So serious, so orderly. So detailed. So... boring."

Landric blushed abit and blinked. "Am I so obvious?"

The Spy Andre wore a dead-pan expression and nodded solemnly once.

•••••••••

A LONG TIME AGO IN YESTERYEAR...

*Italics in German

As Dr. Metzger worked operating on the girl in the brightly lit and sterile theatre, his nurses observed in a bemused manner that her eyes still remained open even with general anaesthetics.

Dr. Metzger stroked abit a blond hair out of her eyes with a gloved hand. She had developed an immunity to the general painkillers already, and could groggily remain awake to watch with clouded eyes as he performed his procedures on her. "_You are sleepy, why don't you go to sleep hmm? Time will pass faster that way_." He cooed.

Toskia watched the doctor standing over her with his hand on her hair. This was the fifth or fourth time she had done this, watch with her aquamarine blue eyes directed hopelessly upwards, the doctor operating on her. Well, at least the anaesthesia still worked she did not feel pain, and luckily not much emotion either.

She ever watched the doctor, from using a scalpel, to retractors, to forceps, to some other equipment she did not know what for, to curved needle and sutures. Sometimes Dr. Metzger would not even bother to wear a surgical mask, today was it.

As she watched blankly, she saw his smile whilst he worked. Sometimes she would see the reflection of her open body cavity upon his round glasses. She guessed that of course surgeons would have to enjoy their work, even if it meant cutting up people.

"_Are you in pain my girl_?"

She mouthed a silent "no" her lips just barely moving.

"_I am finished with you now_."

She watched the doctor turn out the blinding operating lights shining over her, and then with the help of his assistants shifted her body onto a gurney. The medical assistants promptly left, leaving the doctor himself to push Toskia to her room.

After pushing her into her room, there he stood over her observing her. In the light that came from the gap in the curtains of her room, he could see by it, the way her eyes glinted that she was still awake. Satisfied that she was all right, he turned to leave when her hand suddenly shot out from under her blanket and held his wrist tightly.

Inwardly he jumped at the sudden action, and he paused, neither of them moving in the dark, her grip was very tight. They stayed that way like brooding monuments. He could not decide what her gaze meant. Was she accusing him with it, or trying to tell him something?

He had told the accountant to buy less other medical supplies and more painkillers for these few operations. But for the next procedure it would have to be painful again.

•••••••••••

BACK TO THE PRESENT...

In the noise of the canteen Landric continued his conversation with Andre. "Ach it is none of your concern."

The Blue Spy had more pudding and said, "I'm curious. Indulge me."

"I von't say that I am interested in her. More like... concerned."

"You know her, even before she came here don't you?" Andre was smiling in a sly and smug manner.

Landric shifted in his seat and looked elsewhere in an uncertain moment, before returning his gaze to his friend. "As usual your profile reading skills are superb."

"All right, I shall not push." Andre finished.

"I imagine that she will not tell me too much about her recent life because she knows that I vill scold her." Landric mused, finishing his pudding.

"Past Nazi experiment oui?" Spy explored.

"Fess... No. I told you before, and I vill not repeat myself again. I was never a nazi." Landric said in an exasperated manner, his brows low. He continued, "It was after the war."

"One of your experiments?"

Landric tapped his finger repeatedly on the table, his expression one of impatience. "Not a personal one."

"I shall finally stop with my harassment mon ami." Spy sighed. He shrugged. "Still since you're not interested in her, it won't disturb you at all if zhe woman might get involved with one of your very own team mates oui?"

Landric irritably pushed his black-framed glasses up his nose and replied curtly, "I don't believe."

"Do you want to make a bet?"

Landric shouted and slammed his hand onto the table, causing the whole canteen to fall silent. All heads turned their way, the tension was enormous since the doctor had never started a brawl before. His friend the Spy did not move or flinch from that spontaneous display of aggression.

Andre responded to the burning glare coming from Landric by softly whispering, making sure only the doctor could hear. "It won't be with me."

The Scout asked from across the canteen, "Doc...? You okay man?"

Landric was flustered and breathing heavily, still with the whole Blue team watching him, stood up and adjusted his tie before leaving for his room. "Excuse me. I am not feeling vell."

"What was all that about?" The Soldier growled.

"mmmff mmhh mmm hmm." Pyro stood in front of Spy with his hands on his hips. It seemed as though he was cross.

Andre said casually and shrugged. "I agitated him."

"You frog! TEAM PEACE AND CO-OPERATION IS KEY TO WINNING A WAR! Sun Tzu said that, and there's no-one else who knows more about war than him!" screamed Jane. His face forced against the Spy, who did not even move from his seat. Jane looked as though he was rabid, all that was missing was the foam.

"Oui."

"In ENGLISH sissy!"

"Yes." Andre still wore a cheeky smile.

From the back away from sight, Nigel tapped Toskia's arm, and oriented his head towards the door. He knew they had to act fast if they were to escape the Soldier's crazy lecturing and drilling.

Outside in the corridor, the Sniper asked, "My place or yours?"

"Yours." she replied.

••••••••••

Dr. Metzger did not return to his room, but instead went to the infirmary. He sat in his office thinking. He always felt at home with the smell of antiseptics and the sight of medical instruments. He held a pair of retractors and clicked it open and shut.

"Mein gott Toskia..." He dropped the shiny metal instrument, massaged his temples, and then hunched over with his elbows on the table.

From what he recalled, she was a volunteer, and had run away from home. She did not tell him everything in full detail, but he could imagine what growing up in such a household could do to the deep subconsciousness and psyche of a child.

No one gave a damn about who she was and where she came from, they were glad that there were enough volunteers for the human enhancement programme. (Since you had to be crazy to join.)

Her older siblings were physically abusive, her parents were... sexually promiscuous.

The result of this upbringing was one very interesting test subject. She was very resistant to pain, and already seemed to show talent climbing buildings and high places. It made sense, she must have done so to get away from her siblings who wanted to beat her.

She was perfect for the programme.

He recalled one of the nurses telling him about the unusual morals she had. In which she seemed to have trouble distinguishing right from wrong, and claimed it the most important thing was of the being's self-interest and survival. The nurse also mentioned with disgust that one at such an age was most likely mentally ill, to believe that there was nothing wrong in manipulating another for personal gain. She spoke about all this seemingly in a calm and detached manner, as if she were talking per se about the weather.

But Landric saw a live demonstration in which he was personally involved, when she portrayed how much she hated home and her family.

From being polite and affectionate, she became a wild animal. And like a wild animal, she did not hesitate in assault, even if it were someone she trusted. Well... Landric reasoned sitting there thinking.

At least he _thought_ she trusted him and liked him. He had the shock of his life when she attacked him with whatever she found in that room at the time.

He shook his head and turned his attention to the bottles and bottles of drugs and assorted medication sitting innocently on his shelves. His brow knit, he exhaled exasperatedly. His gloved hands fidgeted tensely.

He got up from the chair and picked some random painkillers and codeine. With a clatter he placed them onto the table and began to uncap the small dark bottles.

"Ich brauche Hilfe..." Landric said to himself gritting his teeth. He closed his eyes to think for a moment in which method he would use to make the medication take effect faster. Too long.

"Ach verdammt!"

He popped the tablets flippantly into his mouth, chewed the bitter stuff and swallowed. He was that agitatedly impatient, and did not feel like resorting to the syringe tonight.

Before the drugs took full effect, he made his way carefully to his room a ghost of himself. Where he could be alone and think.

Drugs are interesting bad things, one feels less emotion when on them. As Landric knew, choppy emotions always hindered good reason and common sense.

He stripped off his clothing and tumbled gracelessly into his bed, his eyes glazed over already from the drugs, his mouth slightly open and his body felt limp and flimsy. It was very pleasant, since his body had no choice but to relax.

Landric took off his black glasses, and laid them aside as carefully as the drugs would allow him to. He lay there, and thought about his Toskia.

••••••••

**End of Chapter 4**

This chapter is dedicated to:

chime-chan, The Bullet Sponge, WarPigKiller, Feather of the Phoenix, Tiger Uchiha Alchemist and vGlitch


	5. Someone Else and Tactical Combat Class

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION NOTHING MORE. TEAM FORTRESS 2 BELONGS TO VALVE CORPORATION.**

Names: (Story was started on 29 November 2010, not all characters have been named hence the need to come up with own names)

Spy: Andre

Heavy: Sokov

Sniper: Nigel

Soldier: Jane Doe (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Medic: Landric Metzger

Demoman: Tavish DeGroot (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Engineer: Dell Conagher (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Pyro: Pyro

Scout: Dillan

OC: Toskia Van der Meer

**BOOSTER**

**CHAPTER 5**

A Team Fortress 2 Fan-fic

_Note: Continues immediately from where we left off. While Landric sits in his office in the infirmary, and Toskia is with Nigel in his quarters._

"Yeah, there you have it I'm a mama's boy." Nigel finished.

"Oh there's nothing wrong with that." Reassured Toskia leaning back and relaxing her tired shoulder muscles, that bag full of stolen alcohol had to weigh at least a person.

"Well, it's frowned upon for a bloke my age." He shrugged, his face friendly. "Wot' about you sheila?"

"I have no family." she replied. There was a resigned smile on her smooth face.

"Why? What happened?"

Toskia paused with her mouth open, and then said, "I ran away from home."

The Sniper nodded and then asked, "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Toskia shook her head, holding his hat in her hands. "I'm all right, no longer hurt by it."

The Sniper's room was predictably at the highest point of the Blue base. It was a little smaller than other rooms Toskia imagined, with a slanted roof. Here and there were a few things from his homeland. On the floor Nigel had a kangaroo skin rug. Upon his shelves were some stuffed animals, and other dried and severed parts like a paw or tail as hunting trophies. Its smallness made it cosy, and the smell of coffee accented it further.

"My room's on the small side isn't it?"

"It is, but I like it." said the Dutch woman.

"It's bonzer that I'm thin, it helps you know." He said, gesturing at his frame.

"And then you can hide yourself in tight and small places and be right at home." she said. "Our professions have certain things in common."

Nigel laughed, then sat up. "Oh, there's something I want you to have a Captain Cook at." He got up from his seat and went to fetch something from his desk drawer.

It was a little trinket in a square wooden base, covered with a glass case. Nigel sat next to Toskia on the small puffy couch and showed it to her, holding it in his hand.

Toskia squinted abit and asked, "Is that... Australium? Why, it's in the shape of a koala bear..."

"Yeah it is. It's a little beauty isn't it?"

As the Sniper sentimentally admired the gold thing, still facing Toskia, she was not looking at his Australium, but at his face. He was explaining to her the complicated processes of turning it into various compounds, and how it had many uses.

Nigel said, looking at the thing, "I'm no rocket scientist, so I don't quite know how it works. Reckon Dell will know..."

It was then, that Toskia abruptly laid both her hands on his narrow shoulders.

"Wha–" Nigel began.

The sheila silenced him with a rough kiss, crushing her lips over his. He moaned in shock initially leaning away, startled by her sudden behaviour. Then quickly calmed down, closing his eyes and softly returning a kiss to her as well.

Confused by her actions he shakily held her forearms. He caught his breath and looked at her. "What was that for?"

She tilted her head and blinked those captivating blue eyes of hers, telling him that he had very nice sideburns. She then shifted her position and sat in his lap, throwing her arms around him in a hug.

She said huskily, "I'm just lonely, and needing company."

Nigel rubbed his cheek against hers and commented, "but you've only been here a few days sheila. Not like the rest of us. Many of us–" He breathed and corrected himself.

"I." he said. "- need a naughty more than you do."

He was pleasantly surprised that she understood his Australian slang. She claimed that she had not had the pleasure to do so with someone for awhile. It made the two of them.

Nigel held his team mate closer to him and mumbled, his expression worried, "are you sure you're all right with this?"

Even just her answer made him higher and more excited. She hissed into his ear and pulled at his vest, "I want it, I need it."

He pulled at her and held her close, hungrily kissing her neck. Then their mouths met again, she was so dominant and teasing with her tongue. Once, twice already she pinned his tongue upon the palate of his mouth with hers.

They broke apart that kiss to slow down and catch their breaths, and then continued with their play, in a slower and more tremulous pace.

The Sniper grinded against her, he was breathing very heavily. When he felt her hand at his groin feeling how ready he was, he French kissed her and forced his pelvis harder onto her palm enjoying the heat and sensation of being aroused. Gently he felt her soft breasts through her clothes.

"Ohhh... girl I want ya..." he gasped, his hand reaching for the zipper of her coveralls. She allowed him to open it, kneading his back and nibbling the exposed skin of his neck.

Nigel's eyes widened at her bare body. His eyes followed the symmetrically cut scars upon her skin, they were everywhere. On her chest, running along her sides, he assumed along her back and buttocks as well. "The hell happened?"

"An operation. Don't let it spoil the moment..." she whispered.

He had gone abit soft at the shock of seeing her prominent surgical scars, but moaned again when she felt his member through his trousers, seductively kneading and massaging it.

His mind in a haze of lust, Nigel still managed to ask concerned while his heart beat intensified, "Does it still hurt?"

"Not at all don't worry."

"You poor girl, who did this to you." He held her getting her out of her coveralls. He watched her face as she undid his clothing patiently.

They fumbled initially, both out of practice. Then they lost themselves in each other, in a haze of primal instinct and stifling pleasure.

As Nigel was on top of her, slowly thrusting into her he held her face between his calloused hands and said softly, "you're pretty cute actually."

She had her eyes closed, and was submissively relaxed. Upon her face was a rosy blush which made her look very attractive. Her body rocked slightly from his movement, and the mere sound of her breathing pleasured him. He gazed at her, feeling her silky blond hair on his finger tips.

They kissed each other again, he felt her soft and warm skin. Her hands feeling his dark hair. Suddenly she arched beneath him and opened her eyes, moaning as she climaxed. He continued to move his flesh inside her, nearing his much needed turn as well.

When they were done Nigel felt very fulfilled, and hugged her close to him. "Do you want to take a shower with me love?"

He led her into his bathroom and washed with her. They spoke for abit longer, before he helped her towel off. He was still blushing when he thanked her for the intimate encounter. Nigel felt abit hurt when she declined to let him kiss her good night. He wondered as she left his quarters, would she ever develop romantic feelings for him?

But unfortunately for the Sniper, he did not know while she coupled with him, her mind was not on him at all. She was fantasising being with someone else entirely. Someone with round glasses, and a pristine white medical coat.

••••••••••••

The Red Demoman suffered, and his suffering was most evident by the third day of not having any alcohol.

He was such a serious nuisance to his own team, they did as what Blue Pyro had said days before in the canteen during dinner. The Red team had him tied up in their base in a classic wooden chair with rope, according to the Blue Spy Andre. Of whom had snuck in to see where were the positions of the enemy.

Tavish was as good as his word with his bet with Pyro, and took a bottle of strong scrumpy and sloshed it all over himself that day. Dripping and reeking of scrumpy, he went out into the sun fighting still as zealous and enthusiastic as ever.

The Red team doggedly fought harder, holding their own well without their delirious Demoman. To counter this, Toskia infiltrated the Red base again.

The result was embarrassing for the Red Heavy and Medic.

For the time being Blue decided to fall back and defend for abit instead of attack for the day. Dell had his beeping sentries and a rocket gun guarding the area. The alcohol-soaked Mr. DeGroot had sticky bombs around the perimeter and he sat next to Dell.

There the Engineer and Demoman waited. In the distance they stood up and took up their places ready for the impending attack. The Red Medic and Heavy were tearing up the path, glowing red and shiny metallic; ubercharged and invincible. Their faces malicious and crazed.

Dell's swivelling sentries and rocket gun started firing noisily. Tavish was inching away behind anticipating bullets from the enemy which never came, holding his detonator waiting for the ubercharge to wear off, his thumb hovering expectantly over the button.

In the blur, smoke and confusion of gun fire and exploding rockets, the charge had finally worn off. But then... Odd. Not one of Dell's sentries were taken out. Apparently the Red Heavy's mini-gun was malfunctioning.

There was a comical moment when the two red enemies paused in dawning of enlightenment, and then turned around and ran while Dell's guns reloaded with menacing clicks and whirrs.

Tavish just shrugged and pressed the electric bright blue button of his detonator and they blew up before they got out of range.

Standing over the remains of the Red Medic and Heavy, Conagher and DeGroot who were bewildered exchanged glances. The Engineer stood there speechless while the Demoman suddenly broke into a drunken laughing fit.

"That was easy." said Dell. He adjusted his dark goggles.

Tavish was laughing too hard to reply coherently. "I love this new lassie we got wi' us!" He bent down and picked up a charred and still sizzling body part.

The next day, the Red Heavy's other gun also started malfunctioning. (To the delight of the Blue Scout.) All the Heavy had left was his measly shotgun, and he was the perfect target for the Scout to tenderise with his metal baseball bat.

One time, the Red Heavy was like a huge lumbering piñata. Dillan ran around him in circles like a child in a birthday party blindly flailing with a bat hoping to hit it. It was funny when the piñata, not the child started crying.

The Red team was so retarded and in such a mess that they swallowed their pride, and called the administrator for a ceasefire. Their excuse was that they needed psychological assessment and counselling. Especially for their own Red Soldier, who lost his helmet and was accusing and picking fights with everyone else on the Red team, accusing his team members of stealing it. The Administrator was understanding it appeared, since Red was so used to winning. Both Blue and Red teams were given time off.

••••••••••

A LONG TIME AGO IN YESTERYEAR...

Dr. Metzger stood in the laundry room watching the laundry people do their routines. This facility out in the cool mountains was like a tiny community, in which everyone had their place and job. He liked it, to be away sometimes from the city even though the city was not particularly noisy. He liked nature, and found alot of solace from it.

Satisfied that his standards of hygiene for his one patient was met, he walked outside. The cold wind blew onto his white lab coat and it flapped in the breeze.

After a few moments relishing the natural and fresh air, he habitually walked into the facility again and began climbing up the stairs and walking to the patient Van der Meer's room.

He quietly opened the door, minding not to wake her in case she was resting.

"How are you feeling today fraulein?" he asked gently.

The room was like any other hospital room of its era. A large window with curtains, and before it a bed. Since the window was large, it allowed alot of light to enter. Today it was partially open.

Landric's favourite patient sat on the floor, with a puzzle. She looked up and smiled at him. She was still moving slowly though, and he went over to help her up.

"I am okay betreuer." she answered.

"You need to stretch your legs and strengthen your muscles. Come with me, I shall take you for a picnic." he held out her hand.

The girl held his hand tightly, and unsteadily got onto her feet. Her manner wobbly, as though she was shivering from low temperature. As she stepped, sometimes she would wince from pain.

••••••••••••••••

BACK TO THE PRESENT...

Ceasefire. Oh well, Toskia would be given a chance to relax and think more then for the duration of it. It was in the afternoon, and she sat in the comfort of her room. In her hand she held a small but essential part of the Red Heavy's mini-gun.

She flicked her wrist, and tossed it onto the floor sending the flat circular piece spinning like a top. Also on the floor, was a battered Red Soldier's helmet.

This was so fun. Now presently she was not so sure, but previously before the ceasefire the Red team was not aware of her presence at all, giving her team a distinct advantage. For all she knew the grumpy administrator would have informed the Red team by now.

Someone knocked on her room door, the tapping sound on wood perking her up instantly.

"Come in." she called.

"So. How are you enjoying your working as a mercenary thief?"

Her eyes lit up at the sight of Dr. Metzger stepping into her room and closing the door behind him.

"Betreuer!" she said, getting up and changing her position to sit on her bunk instead. "Please, take a seat in my chair."

Sitting in her chair, Landric looked at her equipment hung up on her walls. Harnesses, lock picks and various tools were her room decorations. "So. I can imagine you surely were not in an office job at BEACON. You were a thief ja?"

Her expression subtly changed. "Cat burglar." she corrected him stressing the words, and then folding her arms defensively. As she leaned back, the bed creaked abit.

Landric turned his head to the wall again and looked up and down at her equipment, meticulously scanning for something. "Toskia?"

"Yes?"

"Where are your weapons?" He observed a grapple gun with its length of rope hanging next to it.

"I have none. It is within the rules of the contract, and my class that I am not allowed to kill. I only have my brass knuckles and my taser. To stun the enemy so that I can escape."

Landric was frowning. "Und what other rules have you?"

There were just some rules which everyone knew, for example mercenaries were strictly not allowed to use another class's weapons or tools.

"I..." Toskia narrowed her eyes concentrating on the terms of her contract. "I am only allowed to steal or sabotage one thing a day."

"Hmm.. true. It would be too much if you did more than that." The Medic leaned back his seat, straightening the tails of his coat so that he could be more comfortable.

"The delivery times from Mann. Co and other things may have to be changed because of this. The administrator is an imposing and scary woman." Toskia began. "I don't know."

"I've never seen her before." Landric admitted. "Only in photos. What is your class called? Zhere are three combat classes at the moment, "Offensive, Defensive und Support. Which are you?"

"None. I'm a new combat class. They have decided to call it Tactical at headquarters."

"Vhich means–" Landric said, intrigued.

"Yes. If my trial here is successful, two more new mercenaries will be coming in, to make a complete combat class consisting of three mercenaries."

"Ja. It's standard. Wundervoll."

"How exciting don't you agree?" Toskia said. Her expression optimistically set. "There will be new mercenaries to entertain our employers, and new friends for you all."

A gentle breeze blew in from the open window, causing the shutters to rustle.

Dr. Metzger shook his head sedately once and broke the silence. "I still do not approve of you vorking at BEACON."

Landric was an interesting person, and one conflicting and contradictory thing about himself (of which he was well aware of) was that while he was accepting that he himself was sadistic and cruel, he would not like it if friends, relatives or a loved one were to start exhibiting such qualities.

"Doctor, I..."

He watched her lean forward, and put her hands on her head. She brushed back the hair on her head and said, "Please, I had no choice."

"No choice?" He pressed on. "No choice for vhat?"

"After I ran from the facility–" she began and stopped in mid-sentence. Then her shoulders sagged, and she fell silent looking at Landric uncertainly.

Landric's heart clenched at the mention of the incident when he saw her for the last time, years ago. In the awkward silence he watched her pensively. He maintained his stiff upper lip, skilfully hiding his emotion.

She was now frowning, with a defiant glare. "What, you want me to continue?"

"Ja. Explain yourself." he said sternly.

"I can't remember... I would not have been able to lead a normal life, that contemporary society approves of? After the operations and..."

"Are you blaming me?" he challenged her quietly, adjusting his glasses but his cold grey eyes not leaving her face.

"I would like to, but it would mean me being unreasonable. Since I volunteered." she finished. "I am... sorry if I hurt you with the..."

Landric did not answer that, but gave her a tight-lipped smile. "I don't blame you fraulein."

She got up and hugged him, after affectionately butting her head into his shoulder. Landric sighed and paternally patted her back. She did not know any better, and he made a note to himself that he would have to talk to her more.

Just then the door knocked, and the jovial Australian accent of the Sniper could be heard outside announcing that he had beer. Before Landric and Toskia could break their purely innocent embrace, the door swung open exposing them.

"Toskia I've got some Red Shed beer here–" He stopped. Nigel stood there flabbergasted at the sight.

•••••••••••••••

**End of Chapter 5**

This chapter is dedicated to,

MidNight The Magnificent


	6. Seems A Little Off

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION NOTHING MORE. TEAM FORTRESS 2 BELONGS TO VALVE CORPORATION.**

Names: (Story was started on 29 November 2010, not all characters have been named hence the need to come up with own names)

Spy: Andre

Heavy: Sokov

Sniper: Nigel

Soldier: Jane Doe (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Medic: Landric Metzger

Demoman: Tavish DeGroot (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Engineer: Dell Conagher (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Pyro: Pyro

Scout: Dillan

OC: Toskia Van der Meer

**BOOSTER**

**CHAPTER 6**

A Team Fortress 2 Fan-fic

Landric stared at the stiff Sniper still holding up two bottles of cold beer. The doctor was more taken aback by the manner in which Nigel reacted, rather than by the shock of being caught in the act of what looked like a scandal.

Landric calmly drew away and mildly held Toskia's forearms taking them away from his shoulders, and turned to face the doorway. "Guten tag Nigel."

Logically Landric expected he would simply be surprised by the sight and leave them alone, closing the door. It would be the polite thing for a gentleman to do. Not stand there like a dummkopf look confused and upset like a teenage boy.

"Uh. Doc, I didn't know ya' would be here. Lemme' go get another bottle." Nigel started to leave.

"Nein, I don't drink." Landric looked at him suspiciously. Was he not feeling well? "You don't look so good Nigel. Come to my clinic later."

He sighed. He regretted that he had to leave Toskia, he still wished to talk to her. He stood there frowning, and only noticed that he still was holding Toskia when she butted her head into his shoulder again. He found he could not hold eye-contact with her for too long, he would always look away first.

"Toskia, come and see me after dinner tonight ja? I still want to talk to you." He stepped through the doorway, nodded to the Sniper and then left.

••••••••••••••••

"G' day doc." greeted The Sniper.

Dr. Metzger had before him on his desk a clipboard, and in his left gloved hand he twirled a pen. He gestured for the Sniper to sit opposite him in the patient's chair.

"Are you feelingk all right?"

"Yeah doc I am." The Sniper replied.

"No feelings of body aches, tiredness?" said Landric. Asking the usual questions.

"Nope."

Dr. Metzger got up from his desk, and went over to the Australian to check him with a stethoscope. "Are you sure? You seemed off just now at Van der Meer's quarters." At that question the Medic heard the Sniper's heart palpate harder through his medical instrument. Landric said pretending to not have heard Nigel's heart jump, "Because such symptoms can mean a coming cold or bout of flu."

He went back to his seat and wrote upon the paper, "Physically fine. But slight psychological turbulence."

Landric's suspicions were confirmed when he saw the usually level and patient Sniper wear a frown after he had mentioned Toskia. It probably thereby reminded Nigel about opening the door and walking in on himself and Toskia having a private conversation.

The Medic paused with his pen in his hand, before methodically writing down: "May have traumatic history involving relationships."

He looked up at the Sniper in the silence of his sterile clinic and asked, "Is zhere anything you vant to talk about?"

Landric watched as the man made as if to say something by opening his mouth, and then shifting in his chair. "Doc I..." He fell silent.

"I'm listening." As the Medic in field, he also doubled up as the psychologist of the team. Complete with doctor's code of silence.

"It's about the new member on the team?"

Landric kept his face controlled, but inwardly his interest was piqued. He felt like a cat with a mouse being dangled right in front of its whiskers. Perhaps he might be able to tell him something he did not know about Toskia.

"Ja?" Landric watched his patient, who was speaking slowly. Usually the man was articulate and wittily morbid with black humour regarding his descriptions. Not so today this late afternoon.

"She seems a little... off." Nigel paused, looking at the wood of the desk itself a few feet away from him. He continued, "as though there's somethin' wrong with her?"

"This disturbs you?"

"Yeah it does..." Nigel replied.

"How so?" Inwardly Landric was wondering how would he know that something was wrong with her. One, he only knew her for a little more over a week, and two; who on the team did not have "something wrong" with them? He tilted his head downwards to write, "Shows signs of being stressed with new team member."

"Maybe it's just me." Shrugged Nigel, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Vhat's the matter, has she been harassing you?" Landric suggested. Thinking that perhaps it could be why the amiable Sniper was trying to be friendly with Toskia, offering her some beer.

Nigel raised his eyebrows and blinked. "No no. She hasn't been." He said, "I think I'm just worried about her."

The Medic nodded. "You are on good terms vith her then?"

Nigel admitted, "Yeah I am. Doc? Can I ask you a personal something?"

"Hmm?"

"Is there anything between you and her?"

Landric dropped his pen onto the table, his lip crooked. He adjusted his black glasses higher up the bridge of his nose. He just narrowly managed to control himself from telling the Sniper off that it 'was none of his business.'

Nigel bit his lip and said bashfully, "Sorry I said that. I guess not. I'll be seein' ya." He got up, touched the brim of his brown hat and left the clinic.

As the door to the infirmary closed, Landric took off his glasses, laid them aside on the table and put his head into his arm. He rubbed his head onto the thick white fabric of his coat, and breathed through his mouth, relieved. What a close one! The Sniper mistook his reaction for one of offence and revulsion.

After a few moments to compose himself, Landric sat up, the chair creaking as he did so. He started thinking. Sometimes it helped to look around without his spectacles, the blur shapes gave him new insight and forced his mind to work better since there was less visual information to rely upon.

He began tapping his finger rapidly on the wood of his table. So. Something unexpected had happened. The Sniper apparently had a taste for short-haired, masculine women.

Now he was worried about Toskia. Of course she was stout and strong, she would be able to defend herself. But still... she.

The man could not be blamed. Toskia was actually quite attractive, and full of character. But then, there were her other more unusual qualities. During the initial months when he was just getting to know her back at the facility, he was sometimes confused by her and had no head or tail of what was going through her mind. There were not many occasions, but they certainly were memorable, and at the time for the doctor before he was battle hardened; scary.

•••••••••••

A LONG TIME AGO IN YESTERYEAR...

*Italics in German

At the sound of one of his assistants screaming, he bolted down the corridor from where it was coming from. The sounds of his footsteps mingling with the panicked shrieking of his assistant Hans. It was coming from Toskia's room.

The door was open, and when Landric came round the bend he saw what it was all about.

"_Doctor! Oh my god. She's crazy, she attacked me._" Hans was bent over clutching his side, and was shivering wide-eyed like a cornered rabbit.

From the door frame Dr. Metzger said, "_Toskia. What are you doing?_"

The blond girl was wearing an operating gown, her arms had red scars upon them from where they were strategically cut and sewn back. With one hand she clutched a broken chair. Upon the floor were a few splinters and shards of broken wood. She turned her head back to Hans, and raised the chair–

Landric stamped his foot and snapped. "_Toskia. Stop that right now!_"

She did not stop, but swung the chair right onto Hans with extreme cruel prejudice, who collapsed wretchedly onto the floor. The chair broke at the last impact over the man. Still holding what was left of the chair, its leg, she bared her teeth and made to bring it down again onto the suffering assistant.

Landric stepped forth, grabbed her free hand and shouted, "_STOP IT_!" He struggled with her, and when he attempted to grapple her he feared that she would hit him instead.

He shut his eyes and braced for the feel of wood inflicting pain, for something hard to forcefully ravage him. But it was for nothing. Toskia did not hurt him. She let go of the chair leg, and unsteadily lowered her pale blue eyes to the floor. Her other hand still in a tight fist was held by Landric.

His heart beat slowing down to normal, he told her, "_Say sorry to Hans_."

"_Sorry Hans_."

Hans was still on the floor trembling, and whimpering to god thankful for being saved at the nick of time.

Dr. Metzger looked at his assistant and jerked his head towards the door, signalling that he wanted him to leave. As Hans got to his feet and limped out, Landric turned back to Toskia and demanded, "_Why did you do that_?"

Toskia still had her eyes trained onto the same spot of the floor.

Landric loosened his grip, realising that he must be hurting her. His tone subsided. "_Why did you do that_?"

"_I am sorry betreuer, I attacked him because he hurt me_."

"_Hurt you how_?" His expression darkened.

"_By accident. He held my arm too tight when I stumbled. I am sorry, I got angry_."

Landric closed his eyes and sighed. "_Come here_." He said. He gently pulled her into a warm hug. Her skin and flesh was still very sensitive, and she was shaking as he held her to his chest to comfort her for abit.

He heard her mutter something in Dutch of which he could not understand.

He held both her cold hands and said, "Smile for me. Come, it is time for your physiotherapy."

The girl slowly moved her blond head upwards to have eye contact with him finally and said, "It is so painful..."

Her blue eyes, the windows to her soul showed crumbling endurance, like the ruins of an old castle. An old castle that had braved the wind and the rays of the sun, lifeless yet still stoically standing.

"_Yes, I know... I know. I am here for you. Don't worry._" Landric looked at her exposed arms. A few days ago he had stitched them back personally after all those incisions, they were healing well and very evenly with no signs of infection.

"_Today it is just stretching_." he reminded her. "_You must you know, otherwise your muscles will be very stiff_."

His patient seemed dazed and confused. He reasoned it was because the adrenaline had left her after her bout, and now she was sleepy. "Doctor? Please I don't want Hans to be there... I don't want to do therapy with him."

God, the girl did not even seem to know how much she had hurt his assistant.

"_No no. Hans will not be there. I will be doing therapy with you._" he said delicately.

Her eyes half-closed, she nodded a few times lethargically in a stupor. "_I trust you_."

•••••••••••

BACK TO THE PRESENT...

"Ten hut!"

Landric squinted as the Soldier marched into the infirmary. He clicked his boots and saluted with his rocket launcher. Standing at attention he said in his characteristic harsh voice, "Report to the mess hall for dinner doc!"

"Jawohl." he replied promptly.

Landric could almost hear a snare drum playing a military beat as the Soldier marched out singing a marching song. He cleaned his glasses, and put them back on his face and then made his way to the canteen.

The Medic frowned. Predictably at the canteen, Nigel was already sitting with Toskia speaking to her.

"Yeeha!" The Engineer was doing a bow-legged dance, celebrating that the whole team was on holiday.

The Demoman blinked, and asked, "Mates am I dreamin'? Am I more drunk than usual? The news was yesterdae' and I still feel a wee bit funny tha' this isn't reel!"

"Certainly not drunken mon ami." replied the Spy. "I don't suppose you would like me to slap you to make sure?"

Tavish put both his hands up before him and shook his head with his one eye closed.

"This is sweet yo!" said the Scout, turning his cap on his head backwards. "I can practice my baseball!"

Sokov spoke up. "But not so good. Knowing administrator woman, she vill be asking for assessment."

"I hate those check-ups." Nigel intoned, his mouth awry.

"Hmmmm mmmhh mmmh eeeh." The Pyro just entered the canteen and sat down. He shook his black rubber head.

Assessment meant a full-body check-up and psychological fitness test from professionals hired by the administrator. Of course evidently the physical assessment was more strict than that of the mental one, in which many cases of mental sickness was ignored. They would only bother if the illness affected their abilities on the battlefield.

"I vill not like it if they try to put me on diet." Sokov breathed loudly, his chest puffing and then shrinking. "Again."

The Demoman patted the gentle Russian's shoulder and said with gravity, "Remember the time they tried tae' keep me off me booze?"

"Ach. Of course we remember." Shuddered Landric.

Everyone in the room made audible noises of dismay and discontentment.

Pyro suddenly flailed his arms about and slapped his hands on the table repeatedly screaming. ("Agghh hhhhee eee. Mhhhp.")

Everyone knew how intensely shy Pyro was. According to the Spy, he did not even like to look at himself in the mirror. Due to a certain mental illness no doubt. His team respected that and never pried, ever making jokes that Pyro was a girl in disguise. Pyro was sporting and would laugh at it, he himself knowing he was abnormal.

"Man. That bad huh?" Dillan shrugged and looked at his bandaged hands. "Well Toskia, you and me got one thing in common, we ain't never had no assessment before."

Toskia looked at the Scout and nodded without saying anything.

"Ah ta' heck with it. It'll be over in just a tootin' moment." Said Dell optimistically. "Let's just forget about it for tonight. So what ya'll wanna do?"

The Demoman turned his head to the kitchen where the staff were already preparing dinner and had a thought. "Aye mates? Want a party?"

"Tavish? We should've gone and done that yesterday when they announced the ceasefire." Dell got up from his chair, and started heading for the kitchen. "But who cares, any of you with culinary skills get inta' the kitchen now.

"Ah. A cooking competition involving our ethnic fare?" asked the Spy.

"Yep." was Dell's answer.

"I am sure to come in first, from behind of course." Andre stubbed out his cigarette, and stood up to join Dell.

"I hope there's enough space in the kitchen for all of us." The Engineer said offhandedly.

"I'm goo'in down tae' the freezer mates. Dillan laddie? Want to come wi' me?" Tavish waited at the doorway.

"Yeah sure man. But what for?" Dillan had already run out of the room.

Tavish replied nevertheless even though the Scout could no longer hear him, "Tae' make me some food I hae'nt had since I got here. Doc? You co'ming?"

"By all means." Landric got up and followed suit.

As they were descending the stairs to the musty basement, they heard Dell call out to them the time limit for their friendly competition, it was four hours.

"More than enough time!" Laughed the one-eyed Demoman.

"We shall be working into the night." Landric said.

Tavish shook his head and said, "mind yer' language doc! We're no't workin'. We're partying all night."

They stopped at the walk-in meat freezer holding most of their frozen supplies. The door was a big metal sort. Dillan had to lean back with his body weight to open it.

A puff of condensed air came out and then cleared.

"I vonder what would I give to see the red team like this." said Landric through the hum of the cooling generators.

On a two rows, hung on black meat hooks were whole lambs, beef and pork. Scout was jogging around them shivering in the cold air.

He said proudly his eyes gleaming of nostalgia, "That's alot of meat. Y'know back home in Boston I helped out in our family restaurant."

"Yes lad you've said that before, and it is why I wanted ye' tae' help me." Tavish said, walking to the back to look at what else was on the stainless steel shelves, which were coated with a thin layer of white ice.

"Och! Thae' got offal and organs hee're! I'll can make haggis!"

"Yew!" cried the Scout shivering more, his breath fogging the air.

Dr. Metzger cuffed him savagely, causing his baseball cap to fall off and shook his head. He smiled. "I vill be making blutwurst. What are you going to cook?"

"Standard steak." said Dillan.

•••••••••••••••••

Up at the canteen the only two people who were left out, were Nigel and Jane. In Jane's case he was forced out of the greasy kitchen. Sokov claimed that his cooking "is terrible can't even cook like baby."

"So, what you in for?" Rasped Doe.

"Sir, I can't cook to save my life. All I know is bush meat cooking." Nigel said, leaning back.

"Ever ate rat before? Back in the war I did!"

"Oh yeah. Ever roasted something close enough to rat though. Possum meat is real nice." Nigel was grinning, thinking back about the days he spent hunting in the outback.

Jane slammed his fist onto the table. "I Propose we take care of the beverages for the function tonight! And then we will have an outlast contest, or all that food will go to waste!"

••••••••••••••

A LONG TIME AGO IN YESTERYEAR...

Physiotherapy was a straightforward thing. Depending on how healed she was, it could be simple stretching or lifting of weights in the gymnasium.

The young Dutch volunteer today was doing stretching. Landric understood the pain and discomfort involved. Now she leant against the wall with her arm upon it. She "walked" her hand up the wall slowly and gradually with her fingers.

Her eyes were closed, and she was sweating from the pain. Her breathing louder than normal showing stress, and she breathed from her mouth instead of her nose.

"_Fraulein, your pain tolerance has improved. How did you do it_?"

Still slowly and gradually stretching her arm upwards against the wall, she answered softly with sweat running off her body. "_I have learnt how to disassociate, to think about something else, or pretend I am doing something else._"

Landric's eyes trailed along the still-red surgical scars upon her arms and the other parts of her heaving body which were not covered. He opened his mouth to speak, at the same time admiring his work. "_What are you doing now_?"

"_I am at a river, it is in the evening. I am rowing a boat with you_..."

••••••••••••••••••

**End of Chapter 6**

This chapter is dedicated to those who are on alert/faved it:

chime-chan, CrazyGirlMe, Feather of the Phoenix, Iniku Dakishi, The Bullet Sponge, Tiger Uchiha Alchemist, vGlitch, L-lover, WarPigKiller.


	7. A House Is Not A Home

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION NOTHING MORE. TEAM FORTRESS 2 BELONGS TO VALVE CORPORATION.**

Names: (Story was started on 29 November 2010, not all characters have been named hence the need to come up with own names)

Spy: Andre

Heavy: Sokov

Sniper: Nigel

Soldier: Jane Doe (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Medic: Landric Metzger

Demoman: Tavish DeGroot (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Engineer: Dell Conagher (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Pyro: Pyro

Scout: Dillan

OC: Toskia Van der Meer

**BOOSTER**

**CHAPTER 7**

A Team Fortress 2 fan-fic

Dear readers,

If you can please listen to the song sung by Dionne Warwick 1964, "A House is Not a Home" in order to fully enjoy this chapter.

Yours truly,

M. O. S.

In the kitchen Sokov loomed over the surprised staff, telling them that they were having a little celebration for the Red's proposed ceasefire, and that the Blue mercenary team would be taking control of the kitchen for the night.

Presently he was working at a table with a seasoned and well-worn wooden board. On it was a ball of white dough of which he had made. He was making now varenyky. Dumplings, filled with cheese and mashed potatoes.

He was surprisingly nimble with his huge fingers, and when Andre pointed that out to him he replied "of course." Looks were deceiving, how else would he be able to build and maintain his own mini-guns? How else would he be able to handle his bullets?

Behind him was Dell the Texan Engineer marinating raw chicken wings and drumsticks in honey. Nearby was a bottle of chilli pepper flakes, and a bottle of dark vinegar. He told Toskia he was making "spicy buffalo wings."

Andre had finished his paté, he used frozen goose liver. He put it in a bowl, and used a clean damp cloth to cover it in order to keep it moist. After passing the Engineer a wedge of blue cheese he had earlier requested from the Spy, he went out of the kitchen.

The dark Demoman sat on a stool serenely drinking his scrumpy, while letting his haggis simmer in a big pot. Tavish told Andre that Landric was just outside the meat freezer in the basement stuffing intestines with meat and blood.

Andre went down to the basement and found the busy Medic and the Scout. They had put up a folding table just a few feet away from the closed door of the meat freezer.

Landric was meticulously twisting his sausages and he looked like he would be finished soon, his gloved hands which were smudged with blood squeaked as he bent his fingers and moved them.

"Landric!"

"Ach mein fruend, finished already?" The Medic looked up. "You know if I am not careful I could confuse operating in the field vith cooking, as you can see." He held up the length of his blutwurst.

Andre, directed his eyes at the young Scout who was curiously watching the doctor work, and turned turned his eyes again meaningfully towards the stairway.

Picking on the subtle signal, Landric said to the scout, "It is almost time up Dillan. You should go und start frying your steaks."

Before the Spy could say anything the boy had already sprinted up the stairs, his feet quickly pattering off the floors.

"So mon ami, how are you holding up." On his face, showing through his mask was a suggestive smirk.

"You don't mean my blutwurst do you?" Landric cleaned a cleaver with a stained kitchen cloth, his lingering tone expressing that he knew exactly what the Spy meant.

"Of course not. I will be direct with you Landric, you must watch your experiment. Being a spy, and having gone through training to be less empathetic towards people whenever I choose for zhe good of a mission, I know very well how to spot another... smooth operator?"

Finishing up and putting the links of his raw sausages into a huge bowl, Landric paused a moment to wipe his hands onto his apron. He frowned at the Spy with a questioning and uncertain face.

The French man sighed. For a such a learned man, and with an appearance that looked deceptively wise due to his round black glasses, Dr. Landric Metzger could be such an incurable dunce.

"Let me tell you straight doctor, I think your love interest slash experiment is now taken."

"Huh?"

"You had better watch her more and take care of her." Andre warned ominously.

"Vhat do you mean?" Landric's shoulders appeared stiff and tense.

"Look at him, zhe man has been smitten!" The Spy announced, splaying his arms apart.

The German doctor had the corners of his mouth turned downwards. "You mean the Sniper?"

"Oui."

"I don't think so. It is probably one-sided." Dismissed Landric folding his arms and leaning onto the wall with the Spy. "Unless you tell me you have actually seen her being intimate with–"

Andre rolled his eyes and interrupted. "I am a spy Landric. Where zhere is smoke zhere is fire. And some things can be deduced by sure tells and signs. A man only behaves like how our sniper does because he is very sure he has a chance, or that his feelings may be reciprocated."

Landric was now thinking very hard. He had not forgotten the two times Toskia had visited him in the night, they had kissed. It did not make any sense. It could not be.

Andre was still conversing his observations.

"... and I know she hides her emotions very well, she acts like zhe Sniper is just an odd acquaintance. But in the sniper's case he is not as admirably opaque. He is transparent."

"But it doesn't make any sense. Vhy would she do that?" Landric thought of Toskia laying on top of him that night, her hands warmly caressing his face.

Andre shrugged with his palms facing upwards. For once he was not wearing his leather gloves, since he was cooking earlier. "You should ask zhat question to yourself, since you know her longer than I do."

"Nien, I don't think so. She wasn't like that..."

From faraway, the voice of the Engineer could be heard calling for them to come to the canteen.

Andre nodded and said, "Talk to her. Whatever her intentions are. Just don't let up if you don't want her to be taken by our sharpshooter."

"Ja. I will."

•••••••••••••

"Not as good as what uncle in Russia makes. But is good enough." The Heavy spooned more of his varenyky onto the plates of his eating team members.

The huge man sat down and looked around himself. His team mates were talking, laughing, enjoying themselves. It made him feel greatly content. How wonderful it was to just sit and watch people of whom he knew be happy. These were his friends, people of whom he fought with and died with. The fighting and hunting of the Red team was great, he would miss his friends once their contracts finished. They could try and keep in touch, but he knew very well they would all drift apart in time.

"It's mighty nice Sokov." praised Dell.

"We should do this more often da?" Sokov suggested. "I like very much Dutch girl's kibbeling." He held a piece of white fish fried in batter laced with spices, then dipped the crispy morsel into a white creamy tartar-like sauce and chomped it down.

"It's a painful reminder though of how darn messed up we all are. Feels like forever since we did somethin' normal like. Even though we just had a barbecue last week." The Engineer spread onto a cracker Andre's goose liver paté.

"Mmmm hmmm mmppphh." Pyro cheerfully held up a bottle of beer, and drank though a straw stuck into it. His round glass eyes looked optimistic.

"Da. But today is happy day. Must enjoy." The Russian put his glass of beer, which looked small in his massive hand to his mouth and emptied it after clinking it against Pyro's bottle. He was trying to remember everything. The voices, the faces, the lights, the smell of food done by his team mates. Everything. As a wonderful future memory to visit once he had gone back to Russia.

Sokov sat there and thought about the first week he had here. A few short years ago. It was in 1965. The thing that he could not stand the most was the heat. Being from Mother Russia, it was many degrees below zero Celsius there. The sudden change in temperature nearly made him go mad from sweating like a pig and being irritated.

In the nights he would actually bring his mattress into the meat freezer along with Sasha, to relieve himself from the never ending heat and just sleep half naked there. It was horrible. Then there were the times when he fainted from heat stroke in the battlefield while he was still adjusting.

It was embarrassing since it made him look very weak. At the time he was very determined to believe that his time working here would be hell on Earth, and that he would refuse to enjoy it. He hoped that it would be over as soon as possible. But now what he felt was completely different. Now a part of him hoped that it would never end.

The radio earlier was brought into the canteen, and now was playing a sentimental song titled, "A House Is Not a Home" sung by Dionne Warwick.

_A chair is still a chair_

_Even when no-one is sitting there_

Further away from the canteen where everyone else was, Landric and Toskia sat outside. The night air was cool, and the stars shining overhead provided them with paradoxical open privacy. The radio could still be heard playing, but softly.

_But a chair is not a house,_

_And a house is not a home,_

"So mein fraulein. Here we are again, let us pick up vhere we left off ja? Explain yourself." Prompted Landric patiently. "Since you still call me betreuer, I have the right to know."

Toskia breathed in the cold and slightly humid air and breathed out again. She was side-by-side Landric, two feet apart from him. She started when he gave her an encouraging smile.

_When there's no one there to hold you tight,_

_And no one there you can kiss good night._

"When I ran away from the facility..."she began. "Funny I cannot quite remember what happened after that... I. I just started working at BEACON."

Landric tilted his head disbelievingly. "How can that be?"

"People from BEACON found me... They took care of me in a strange house... It's all blank. It was them who brought me to America to be educated and learn English. After I had graduated from school I worked for BEACON. During school, I was trained by them physically and mentally.

_A room is still a room_

_Even when there's nothing there but gloom,_

"Even after common sense told me that I was probably 'stolen' by them, I didn't mind. They were my family, they fed me and provided me with a home. They... must have been watching the facility and knew about your experimentation on strength enhancement."

"Hmm. Plausible. And you running away was actually an advantage for zhem. Oh mein fraulein I vas so worried for you. I thought you had surely died!" Landric said, still feeling that same panicked emotion so long ago.

••••••••••••••••

A LONG TIME AGO IN YESTERYEAR...

It is in the night, at the facility. Dr. Metzger is with his young patient Toskia, he is making a supplemental drink for her, formulated to make her heal faster.

"_No. You must be joking betreuer. I don't want to go_." Toskia was panicked, her blue eyes wide and frozen with dread of impending doom.

Landric had his back to her, his attention focused on a mixing bowl and a spoon held in his hands on the kitchen top. As he mixed the stuff, turning the wooden spoon round and round he spoke.

"_You parents will be worried about you child, having not gone home for months. What of your siblings_?"

Toskia retorted, her voice unsteady. Her heart was beating uneasily, she thought it was going to jump right out of her chest. "_I don't care about them. I don't want to go home_."

"_Finished_." Landric said, carefully pouring the drink into a mug. He turned around to face the blond girl.

"_I don't want to go! Dr. Metzger please don't do this to me_." she beseeched.

"_I will bring you home tomorrow for a visit. I think it will be good for you. Don't worry, it will be fine. I can talk to them, and then the social workers will work_–"

"_NO_!" There was a loud and sudden crashing sound. Toskia had split a cupboard door in her anger.

The doctor's tone immediately became harsh and authoritative. "_Toskia. Control your temper_!"

"_I won't let you. I will not let you take me back home_." The girl looked as though she was capable of murder. Her emotions looked like it was balanced on something very thin and narrow, swaying over a deep black pit.

Landric watched Toskia snatch a wine bottle from the table, and flipped it upside down firmly holding the neck. More disappointed in her childish and unreasonable behaviour than scared, he said, "_Put down the bottle and listen to me_."

Toskia did not reply, but raised the wine bottle over her head and stepped defiantly towards him. Her eyes wild and desperate.

Confident that she would not hurt him since there were multiple incidences in which she obediently did as he said, even during the times she snapped and became violent from stress, Landric scolded her. "_Stop that and drink your supplement_!"

That confidence was proven wrong and appropriately shattered like broken glass, when Toskia without further ado smashed the wine bottle over the good doctor's head like it was nothing. It caused him to crumple onto the ground unconscious, as if he were flimsy wet cardboard.

For a moment she stared at his glasses next to his face on the floor, and then snapped out of it. She knew the sound would have attracted attention. She made her flight fast.

••••••••••••••

BACK TO THE PRESENT...

_But a room is not a house,_

_And a house is not a home_

_When the two of us are far apart..._

_And one of us has a broken heart._

"Betreuer, from now onwards I will keep my distance. I will not try to force myself onto you, because I know you are not ready." she said honestly. "Because I respect you."

Toskia could still recall how he said to her that "this is wrong" that night. She had already tried twice, she would not try a third time and upset him.

"Danke." He put his hand over hers, which was braced at her side holding her seat.

Toskia's blue eyes focused onto the dirt of the ground, tearing her gaze away from his face. She said, "But I am ashamed at the same time to admit to you that I have... Been doing things to satisfy my sexual need to be with you. Is what I'm doing all right with you?"

Landric took her hand in his, and closed his hand over it. He was used to her directness, she was so back in the facility, and he was pleased to see that she did not lose this quality even in the present.

"There is nothing to be ashamed of fraulein. People do these things to be less stressed, und for men it helps to keep their sexual organs in good order." Landric explained, mistakenly thinking she meant masturbation.

She appeared confused for a moment, then blinked and nodded.

_Now and then I call your name_

_And suddenly your face appears_

Landric felt his ears go red when he thought about the time Toskia gave him wild red flowers, their colour signifying romantic intentions. Now in the night still the slight guilt lingered, at the time he saw her as a child. He did not mind that she had a harmless crush on him, it was no cause for trouble. He too found her endearing but she was too young. Even now he still associated her with adolescence, and was just gradually accepting she was grown up now.

"You know that I have had feelings for you eversince. Betreuer, do you like me?" she asked, searching his face in the dark for any expression and was pleased to see that it was shy and yet content.

"I do like you Toskia." He closed his eyes at his rare state of vulnerability. The Medic was holding both his gloved hands together as if in prayer.

He felt nervous and swept up by the moment. As though what he said took so much effort, that he had to wrench those words out of himself, the words were like a pebble wedged in an iron vice.

_But it's just a crazy game_

_When it ends, it ends in tears_

The doctor wanted to ask her if she ever did go home. But the answer was so obvious. She did not.

"Toskia."

"Yes?"

"Did you at least have friends at BEACON? Were you all right there?" Landric asked. The idea of her suffering even more after he was done with her as an experiment was not appealing.

"Acquaintances, not friends." was her wary reply. "I... Yes I was all right. Mostly by myself."

_Darling, have a heart,_

_Don't let one mistake keep us apart._

Landric's crisp tenor voice dropped down to a quiet and yet determined whisper. "Zhat's a lie Toskia. You were not all right, but you have me now. I am here for you again."

_I'm not meant to live alone,_

_Turn this house into a home_

Toskia said, "It is just unfortunate that we had to meet at a place like this."

"Better zhan not meeting at all fraulein."

"Yes betreuer. I've missed you."

The doctor was the first person Toskia met, of whom was safe, of whom took care of her and was not filled with ulterior motives. In the facility, she liked Dr. Metzger the best even though there was another doctor taking care of her. Dr. Marx was nice, but she did not hold such feelings for him. It was a funny thing, that even as the years went by, no other person had such an effect on her.

_When I climb the stair and turn the key_

_Oh... Please be there... still in love with me._

"I have missed you too fraulein."

A voice from above rudely interrupted them. "Sheila, Doc! There ya' are! I was lookin' all over for you two!"

Landric observed Toskia's face with his steel grey eyes, possessively looking for any hints of affection anything more than platonic while she looked up and shouted back to the Sniper.

"Nigel, why?"

"There's a steak-eating competition goin' on rio'ght now! Dillan fried too many. They taste great but there's too much to finish!"

"Who is it between?" she called back.

"Sokov and Jane!" Nigel yelled excitedly. He waved for them to come up, and turned away from the window.

••••••••••••••

Up in the canteen, the eating match between the Soldier and the Heavy was an absolute horror show. Something not for spectators with weak stomachs.

On the long wooden rectangular canteen table sat Sokov and Jane at either sides. Between them a giant plate with medium-well steaks dripping with grease, gravy and beef blood sat. They were piled so high they looked as though they would topple at any moment.

The Blue team crowded around and whooped as the two contenders ate.

Jane Growled after swallowing his half-chewed meat. "Even if my stomach blows I'll still keep on eating with my guts sticking out of my body and uniform!"

Sokov scoffed. "I vill not lose to baby soldier who wears diaper!"

Their gravy stained plates screeched with their forks and knives working. The Scout had habits that were hard to break, like a good waiter he gave them each uncapped bottles of cold Blue Streak beer to wash the meat down.

Landric watched the disgusting scene unfold, his head turned this way and that at either gorging contestants. Standing next to him was Dell, and he said to him. "In my medical career, I am sure that I have experienced everythingk. But tonight there may be a new zhing for me. Stitching up ripped digestive systems."

"Ew. Naw, naw doc. Just leave that fer' the respawnin' machines. Don't get yer' hands dirty." Dell cringed at the idea.

"I second to zhat suggestion." said Andre.

"Goe' easy on yer' self doc. You're too bloody hardworkin." The Demoman said blinking his one eye. "It's the ceasefire."

The winner of course was Sokov. Poor Mr. Doe had fainted from eating too fast and too much. Amidst laughter, Sokov picked up Jane and brought him to the kitchen sink to rinse his face. (He had fainted face-down into his plate.)

Still, Landric refused to be irresponsible. He told the Heavy to bring the unconscious Soldier to the infirmary so that he could spend the night there. He would look at him in the morning, now since he was unconscious, therefore unable to feel pain there would be no fun in that.

While the partying continued, Landric felt stressed. His mind was helplessly occupied with thoughts on Toskia. He was unsure of what to do with her. He liked her but was uncomfortable with being intimate with her. It was just too fast, it was as though he was taking advantage of her.

He said 'good night' to his team mates and then went back to his room to turn in for the night.

In the shower he scrubbed himself more than necessary. He only vaguely noticed when his skin had turned slightly red from scrubbing himself so hard with the abrasive sponge and soap. It was as though Landric could still hear her voice in his head.

••••••••••••••

"Nigel? You do not mind that I need you tonight do you?"

The Sniper who thought that he was making his way back to his room alone in the lonely and empty corridor jumped in the dark, at the firm hand which caught his wrist.

"Toskia?"

In the dark Nigel saw her distinct shape, but he could not see her face. "Had enough of the partying too I see. Can I come with you?" she asked.

He showed her his consent by taking her hand in his and squeezing it affectionately. Still holding her hand he led her to his room. The moment he closed the door and locked it, he found her arms around him, and her warm face against his.

••••••••••••••••

Landric in the bathroom, proceeded to wash his hair. His eyes were shut to stop the soap from getting in, and his world was black yet he could still see her face, and her blue eyes. He felt his pulse quicken. Agitatedly he rubbed the shampoo into his scalp with his fingers.

Hissing through his teeth when he felt his scalp hurting abit, he turned on the hot steaming water to rinse himself off.

He felt the age gap between himself and her more than in the past, and as the water ran off his battle seasoned body, he said to himself, "I am a dirty old man."

•••••••••••••

Nigel and Toskia broke apart for a moment to catch their breaths. In the grey and blue darkness they cuddled. Although they were still with their clothing on, the night still felt cold.

They were on Nigel's bed, the covers now dishevelled from their lustful petting.

The Sniper turned and held her beneath him, laying his weight onto her and squinting in the dark to look at her face. She was looking up at him, with a faraway expression in her icy blue eyes. Her pink lips were slightly parted. It was as though she was looking right through him.

She asked not changing the look on her face, "Are you all right?"

Nigel closed his eyes, leaned forward and kissed her forehead. He put his hand over the top of her blond head. "I am. I care about ya', you know? I feel as though I'm using you..."

"No... Nonsense. You're a good friend Nigel..." her alto voice low.

He felt her rubbing his stiff shoulders. Breathing slowly through his mouth, he said. "You're gonna make me crack a fat if you keep up with this... Ohh..." Indeed, he felt himself going erect.

•••••••••••••••

Landric shivered and sneezed once in his white-tiled surroundings. He had lost track of time on how long he had been standing in the shower with the water turned off. His vision blurred as usual without his black round glasses, he took the towel hanging on the metal rack to dry himself.

He frowned at his self-absorption. He was now shivering as he pulled the fluffy towel across his cold and soaked skin.

Still half-blind and naked he walked over to the porcelain sink and turned on the tap, and began habitually brushing his teeth. Watching his moving reflection in the foggy mirror, he felt more conscious about the silver hair at his temples.

••••••••••••••••

The Sniper and Thief were now under the blanket, sweating, and stripping off their clothes, carelessly strewing them all over the floor. One article landed onto Nigel's kangaroo skin rug.

Nigel felt an emotion he very rarely felt, and not enough of. Safety, security and contentment to name a few. As she writhed under him, he held her tighter to his beating heart.

He said, "I'd really like to know what happened..." He allowed her to tug off his singlet, it was the last piece of clothing he had on. He tenderly stroked the scarred skin on her chest, his eyes following the direction in which they were cut.

"It was about ten years ago." was her quiet reply.

He saw her mood change ever so slightly, but he wanted to know. "Who did this to ya?" He held her tighter feeling her muscles tensing, knowing that she might try and leave.

••••••••••••

Landric was already out of his bathroom and was tiredly putting on his night shirt. He sneezed again, buttoning his blue cotton shirt up.

He decided that for the time being he could not figure out Toskia. He would have to interact with her alot more for him to know what to do. He also needed to do some psychological work with himself, realising that he was more messed up than he himself knew.

He yawned, stretched and climbed into the comfort of his bed.

••••••••••••••••

"A surgeon of course." said Toskia. "To enhance my strength."

"I understand if ya don't wanna talk about it..."

She laughed softly and then quickly stifled it. Laying her head into the curve of his neck, and snuggling deeper into the blanket with him sharing her body heat with him. He was rugged and his scent was very masculine, he smelt like coffee and cigarettes.

Nigel confused, stroked the back of her head and asked, "what's such a riot?"

"You look so serious. I know why you always wear your aviator sunglasses. It's to look more intimidating isn't it?" She meant how disarmingly friendly his blue eyes looked, because of the shape of his brows and his bone structure.

"You can say that." he said grinning, showing his teeth briefly to her. He was staring at her, trusting her. He did not notice that she had successfully changed the subject. He moaned when she bit his neck, she continued to kiss him, her lips tensing against his skin.

"Toskia... I like you." his heart wrenched nervously when he told her that, fearful of rejection. He was relieved when she did not appear to have any qualms with what he confessed to her, it seemed she responded by rocking his restless body against hers.

They fervently continued with their sexing. Still inside her, he got up and said breathlessly to her, "I want to look at your pretty face sheila while I do ya." He steadied himself and heatedly held her toned thighs. She was so warm and wet...

••••••••••

**End of Chapter 7**

All right dear readers, and I leave you here with this long chapter since I took longer than usual to update. Been planning the next chapters because if I'm not careful I'll f*ck this up even more than it already is.

I also have been busy lately with a certain dusty drafting table so...

Don't hesitate to suggest what you all want to see by reviewing. Anonymous reviewers are open.


	8. Psychological Aspects of the Team

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION NOTHING MORE. TEAM FORTRESS 2 BELONGS TO VALVE CORPORATION.**

Names: (Story was started on 29 November 2010, not all characters have been named hence the need to come up with own names)

Spy: Andre

Heavy: Sokov

Sniper: Nigel

Soldier: Jane Doe (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Medic: Landric Metzger

Demoman: Tavish DeGroot (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Engineer: Dell Conagher (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Pyro: Pyro

Scout: Dillan

OC: Toskia Van der Meer

**BOOSTER**

**CHAPTER 8**

A Team Fortress 2 fan-fic

"This is bloody stoo'pid!" muttered the Demoman. He was pouting, and leaned back discontentedly in his chair.

"Mr. DeGroot you must lessen your alcoholic intake!" The doctor stressed.

The team had taken a train down to T.F. Industries in the early morning, and would have to return again tomorrow for physical tests.

"Look, I caen't shoo't straight or act fast wi'out it allright?"

"But–"

"You're be'in like this becae'use I'm black aren't cha?" Tavish wildly gestured with his bottle of scrumpy. As he did abit of the liquor spilled onto the table in front of him.

The man with a clipboard stared up at him with his mouth ajar, and then shut up.

Tavish slyly smirked, got up and left. Outside the infirmary sat the rest of the team waiting.

The most irritated seemed to be the Pyro. He could not sit still, and for the entire time kept pacing about in his abestos coveralls.

They were in medical branch of T.F. Industries, with the spotless and shiny stainless steel furniture, and walls painted of a typical pallid colour often seen in hospitals.

Thankfully the day's gruelling tests were over, and they could all leave. The Demoman was the last for the day's psychological tests.

The most disliked was the long train ride spanning about three hours.

Toskia sat in the train carriage alone, as the sound of the train moving upon the hot tracks filled her ears. It was in the late afternoon, and they would be just back in the Blue base in time for dinner.

She sighed and banged her head on purpose onto the back of her seat. How odd that although they did not do very much physical activity, a long train ride could tire them out like this. She thought, it had to be the boredom. Or maybe it was because before her mission back at BEACON she would sometimes have to be on long train rides, waiting in suspense to see the venue in which the things she was supposed to steal were at.

"Hmm hmmm hhhssyyaa." said Pyro. He poked his head through the door. "HHhaan hh hhhmm eem?"

"Sure, come in and have a seat." Toskia offered.

The firebug, (affectionately nick-named by the team) sat down opposite Toskia. There was a definite droop to his shoulders, and his thick, yellow and black gloved hands were not as animate as usual.

"Ahh hhemm mmmff."

"I can tell you do. Endure it." Toskia said warmly.

"Oooohhmm mmhhpp ghhddd!" The fellow leaned back in the chair with both hands on his head.

As the poor fellow confided in her his troubles about the examination Toskia observed him. Now he was being a mystery, because his face could not be seen at all. Her eyes trailed down to the chest of his suit. There were numerous taunts and jokes about the Pyro being a woman in disguise. Personally Toskia really did not know...

A familiar Russian's voice intoned from the door. "I hear unhappy Pyro mumbling." He was carrying a massive lunch box filled with ham and tuna sandwiches.

Sokov stooped to get through the door and sat next to Toskia offering the two his sandwiches.

"What about the rest Sokov?"

"I gave them all already." was his slow reply. "So. Pyro again is not happy da, about physical examination tomorrow."

"Aaarrhhh mmmpphh!" wailed Pyro frantically.

"Sokov, why is our dear firebug so upset?" asked Toskia picking out a tuna sandwich, from the thin, tin lunch box sitting on the floor between them.

Through the constant sound of the train moving steadily over the tracks, the Heavy looked at Pyro with his thumb directed over to Toskia. "Is okay I tell Dutch girl?"

The unhappy and discontent Pyro nodded once.

"Uh... Is long story. Something about mental illness. Pyro thinks he is very ugly, not like to show his face, or see his own face." The Heavy explained, blinking and contemplating his thoughts.

Pyro used both his hands and pointed at his black fume mask that made him look like a housefly.

"He..." Sokov said.

"Hey man! WASSUP!" The Scout ran into the carriage and dumped himself next to Pyro who jumped from the force of his weight suddenly put onto the seat.

Toskia groaned, and Sokov suddenly lost his temper.

"Lee'ttle man get out of carriage now or I break your legs!" he yelled, threatening scout with his beefy clenched fist.

Dillan frowned. "Hey, don't talk like that to me man!"

Toskia looked up and said, "Pyro's not feeling too well Dillan. Please we need some quiet." She ran her hand over her short blond hair.

"All right, my mouth's shut."

Sokov gave Dillan a sandwich and said, "If you make von noise I vill throw you out of train window. Understand?"

Dillan knew it was a trick question, he did not even say yes. He simply nodded and quietly ate his thick ham sandwich.

The Heavy shifted his weight and got into a more comfortable position upon the small train seat. He continued, "Of course last time Pyro vas vorse..."

••••••••••••••

A GLIMPSE INTO A PAST MEDICAL ASSESSMENT WITH PYRO...

"Mmmpphh hee mmpph mhhe!"

"Don't worry it will all be over in ein moment!" Landric held onto one arm of Pyro while Tavish held onto his other arm. The two were holding him so high and tight that his feet swung uselessly over the floor as Pyro tried to run away.

"Och I cae' barely see him!" Tavish said, since he had his lost eye on the side of the arm he was holding.

"AAaargggmm! Nmmoo!"

"Just hold him!" Landric yelled.

The Medic and Demoman turned the kicking and screaming Pyro maniac around and frog marched him to the examination room, where the doctor was waiting.

"Argh he kicked me!" yelped Tavish.

They actually had to brace the Pyro onto the table with special leather straps. The dark lenses of the Pyro's fume mask was fogging; he was crying beneath it. He was evidently panicked and traumatised.

When Landric and Tavish left the room and shut the door, the screaming did not cease. The muffled sound became clear, everyone waiting outside assumed that Pyro's mask had been taken off.

They could not even hear the physician talking, because Pyro just kept screaming and screaming, like a radio with no signal left turned on.

After a few minutes, the screaming stopped. Later they had to carry their limp team mate out of the room, now again in his mask and suit. He had exhausted himself from fright, struggling and shouting.

••••••••••••••••

Sokov said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, "As you know _all_ of us have mental sickness. It is called vhat, 'sociopath" am I correct? It is job requirement."

Scout was sympathetically patting Pyro's shoulder.

Toskia listened patiently while the Heavy spoke, to her it was a rare thing since he usually was very quiet.

"Heh. But also, many of us have other type mental illness. I have... what doktor say... 'objectophilia'. Scout have attention deficit hyperactivity disorder... Jane has schizophrenia, Tavish have acute depression..." He counted his fingers thinking. No von else has extra mental illness. And you?"

Toskia took another bite from her fat sandwich and replied, "Disassociation disorder. Mild psychopath."

"Ah. I see."

"Sokov what about Nigel?" she asked, tilting her head.

Sokov looked up a moment and took a deep bearish breath. Then letting the air out his nostrils said, "Nigel is only von' in team who refuse to believe or admit to himself that he has mental sickness. Loves his parents very much."

"So we are all crazy." said Toskia. But she had to admit, she never did feel more at home with so many people before. She was being with her own kind here, and she was beginning to like their company.

She said looking out of the window as scenery whizzed by, "We'll be back at the Blue base soon."

Dillan whooped and zoomed out of the carriage like a rocket.

••••••••••••••••••

A LONG TIME AGO IN YESTERYEAR...

*Italics in German

"_He's dying, another failure_." Landric said in disdain and threw his scalpel onto the table allowing it to clatter aside. "I am not even going to bother stitching him back up."

Dr. Marx sighed, still holding up some surgical thread. "_And there goes the beep..._"

Sure enough there sounded the tone from the heart monitor, that uniform sharp sound signifying death, with a flatline.

Dr. Metzger pulled off his mask, revealing that his mouth was turned downwards.

"_Metzger I'm just going to use this corpse here to practice my stitching_."

"_Do whatever you want with it. I'm done for today_." Landric sat a short distance away from the operating table after shutting off the heart rate monitor.

Dr. Marx stuck the curved needle through the bruised flesh surrounding the fresh and bloody incision and did his work like how a housewife would do it with a patchwork quilt.

"_I am hungry.._." complained Landric, closing his tired eyes, still upset with his work. "Are you? I shall go out and buy us something to eat for dinner."

Now that the hum of machines were gone, Marx spoke quietly. "_Oh the usual food that we often have_."

"_Does sauerbraten with klöße sound fine to you_?" Landric was standing at the door frame, his palm resting on it.

"_Yes it does._"

When Landric returned, they ate as usual in the operating theatre together with the corpse, conversing casually.

"_Well, at this rate I imagine all of them will die._" Dr. Marx said.

"_I pray at least one will be a success._"

"_Naturally. Or all this work will be for nothing._"

Landric chewed his food. "_You know, I think the girl will be all right_."

"_Oh yes, she appears to be the only one who appears to deal with the psychological aspects of it the best... While the rest are all cracking she remains..._" Dr. Marx trailed off.

Landric got up and laid aside his plate. "_Time to burn the failure_."

"_Agreed, he's beginning to smell abit..._"

"_A wonder we didn't notice. He does smell rank_."

They _poured_ the man (not much of him was left together), into a body bag and dragged him right to the back of the chemical shacks where there was a charred pit.

They sloshed pungent kerosene all over it and tossed a lighted match onto the heap of stale flesh wrapped within the dark material serving as a poor coffin for what used to be a man.

Dr. Marx pulled back the sleeve of his lab coat to look at his slowly ticking watch and sighed, watching the hot crackling flames lick and burn the bag.

Marx said, "_Maybe I should have used more kerosene..._"

"_It would be burning faster, but we saw what happened the last time when we used two cans instead of one. The fumes were too much_." Landric replied adjusting his glasses, recalling the billowing clouds of black smoke.

"_Metzger since you bought me dinner, you can go. I shall watch this shit burn with the sunset, I wish to save you the trouble_."

"_But I–_"

"_No I insist I'll make sure this will be crispy. Best to go check on our experiments anyway. Knowing the girl, she might be out of bed again roaming about. Surprise checks is what keeps her in line. The girl has no discipline whatsoever_." Dr. Marx flexed his shoulders and brushed off some ash that had settled on his white coat.

"_The girl has a name Marx. It's 'Toskia'_." Dr. Metzger said gently.

Landric before turning to leave, his feet crunching the grass and dry leaves saw Marx nodding in acknowledgement a few times.

Opening the door to Toskia's ward, he saw that she was apparently in bed judging by the lump in the blanket. But he knew all her tricks. In the dark room he flipped open the blanket, revealing two pillows laid in a row.

He drew aside the curtains and looking out the window, saw a familiar shape scaling the roof of the next building.

This was enough. He would make sure that this would be the last ever time this happened. After he had coaxed her to return to her ward, he locked her windows and her door imprisoning her despite her protests. He would not risk her getting infection or tearing her stitches. He would have to be cruel.

Outside the ward door of which he had just locked, Landric knew she was leaning against it still as she spoke to him.

"_Dr. but going out calms me. I like high places, it helps me to forget, it gives me freedom of movement_."

Probably only a foot apart from each other with the dead wood of the locked door separating them he replied, "_No. You will stay here in your ward and rest_."

"_Please no.._."

"_Do not make me force you to take sedatives_." He cut her off coldly. Landric turned and walked down the corridor away from his favourite patient.

•••••••••••••••

**End of Chapter 8**


	9. Beautifully Mutilated

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION NOTHING MORE. TEAM FORTRESS 2 BELONGS TO VALVE CORPORATION.**

Names: (Story was started on 29 November 2010, not all characters have been named hence the need to come up with own names)

Spy: Andre

Heavy: Sokov

Sniper: Nigel

Soldier: Jane Doe (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Medic: Landric Metzger

Demoman: Tavish DeGroot (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Engineer: Dell Conagher (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Pyro: Pyro

Scout: Dillan

OC: Toskia Van der Meer

**BOOSTER**

**CHAPTER 9**

A Team Fortress 2 fan-fic

"Do you know what I think they're going to do to us?" Growled Jane leaning forward obsessively in the waiting room of T.F. Industries.

Everyone of course was used to the strange behaviour of the Soldier and paid him no heed. Still Toskia watched with good humour from across the coffee table she was sitting at while the rest of the Blue team tapped their feet or twiddled their fingers.

Jane Doe continued speaking animatedly into thin air as the Sniper and the Spy lit up cigarettes to kill time.

"They're going to pick our brains and mess them up!"

Everyone was too bored to care. Even the Scout was too bored to make wise cracks or say something annoying. He simply sat there wrapping and unwrapping his white hand bandages.

"We've got to keep our minds together men! Not even Sigmund Freud can ruin our resolve!" He clenched both his fists and shook them in front of his face for emphasis, his helmet as usual making the windows to his soul impossible to see.

Finding even his scrumpy insufficient to keep him entertained, the Demoman said to Andre, "Aye' lad pass me a cig'arette." He too lit up.

With half the team smoking the Engineer abruptly threw his hands up into the air from his lap. "God we been' waitin' here fer hours now!"

"Mmmmpph." Groaned Pyro.

A voice from a hidden speaker sounded, "The Heavy, your physical assessment commences now. Enter the room with the black door."

The Heavy stirred and got up lumbering away. "See you all later." He said.

The Soldier got up from his spot and stomped his feet smashing his hand to his helmet in a salute, the straps of his helmet swinging. "Don't let them mess you up commie comrade!"

"Da. This vill be long day."

Toskia found out yes, it was a long day. It was like gym training, only worse, because they were told to do the best they could. The tests ranged from stamina in running to lung capacity for air. It could not possibly be safe to be shut into a water-filled glass tank, to see how long one could hold one's breath, with clothing on.

The psychological assessment yesterday was so easy compared to this. She simply calmly answered the questions and confidently said that she held no guilt in what she did and she liked very much aiding in her team member's killing of other people. (Andre told her beforehand that it was _very_ important to look happy and with no conscience.)

After all the physically demanding tests, they were sent to the showers, and after that there were the various scans.

Once again in the waiting room, the Blue team sat and waited. But now everyone watched tensely Pyro. They were more or less worn out, but still they watched him.

Landric like everyone, knew what was going on. He was watching the firebug, who was tightly holding onto his knees.

Tavish held up his scrumpy to Pyro. "Want some o' this lad? It'll hea'lp."

"OOohhpp nmoo!" Pyro had both his hands on his head now.

"Steady now soldier steady!" Jane said through grated teeth.

Dell who was sitting next to Toskia said very softly, "I hope he ain't fixin' to make a break fer' it..."

She replied. "We'll have to catch him and drag him into the examination room then?"

"Yeah, we might." Dell said.

Nigel with his gaze focused on his pyromaniacal team mate said, "It'll be unprofessional but we've got to do it."

Toskia asked, speaking by the side of her mouth, "Does this happen every year?"

Landric across the room was already holding onto Jane's shoulder, who looked as though he was going to jump up too early to catch Pyro.

Nigel replied softly. "It's less worse every yeer' but it still happens."

Andre was smoking, and leant back watching. Every other second he would put the cigarette to his mouth, inhale and exhale a puff of smoke.

The Pyro did not seem to be paying much attention to anything, he was possessed. Then he jumped off his seat as though someone had pricked him in the arse and ran frantically flapping his arms down the corridor like a chicken.

Dillan caught up with him first but could not hold him, instead even with Dillan's arms around Pyro's neck he still could run as though hindered by nothing. ("C'mon man help me out here!")

Sokov managed to catch Pyro. Rather, Pyro and Dillan who was still clinging onto him.

Carrying them both, with Dillan gasping for air because Sokov was not taking chances in letting Pyro run away wheedled, "Come lee'ttle firebug. We will vatch new movie just come out when we go back to Blue base. Is called 'Hello Dolly' starring Barbra Streisand."

The firebug's glass eyes remained the same, along with the sounds of muffled protest issuing from his black rubber proboscis.

"Do not cry." continued Sokov walking dangerously nearer and nearer to the dreaded examination room which was hell. "Is nice movie. Is romance love musical."

"Mmmmphh! MMPPHH!"

"We will vatch on nice colour projector that employer bought us as upgrade from black and white for winning Red team..."

•••••••••••••••••

"Strip off your clothing and lay on the examination table."

Toskia had the misfortune to be in the room right next to Pyro's. As she lay on the table the man's poor muffled screaming continued next door.

She would say that she much did not like being poked and prodded at laying on a padded table in the nude. She felt a hint of vulnerability to be in a locked room with a strange man holding a clipboard, she quivered abit from having no clothing against her skin. It must be awful for Pyro.

"You have been through more than thirty separate operations involving... more than a hundred incisions? That's a little vague. Who is the unprofessional butcher who lost count?" Asked the man.

Toskia did not like how the man's eyes roved up and down her body obscenely. Whether in jealous admiration of a superior surgeon's neat symmetrical cuts, following the directions of major muscles, or whether he had a fetish for surgical scars she did not know or want to know.

She replied cooly turning her eyes upwards at the yellow lights. "Same butcher who has made me into the spectacular thief that I am now, and have the honour of serving the powerful Blutarch Mann."

The man made no reply to that, but continued reading from his clipboard. "Turn over Miss Van der Meer."

He raised his eyebrows in astonishment as he read. "You were operated on by a Dr. Landric Metzger? Is he the very same man a few doors away also having his physical examination?"

"Yes." she replied emotionlessly. A thought entered her mind that she would much rather have her trusted betreuer look at her instead of this stranger.

The desperate muffled screaming next door had stopped. Toskia could imagine maybe Pyro was having his diabolical bad thoughts to calm himself. Thoughts of having the attendants and doctor all sprayed with kerosene and gleefully lit up on roiling fire.

The doctor with the clipboard watched as the muscular woman turned over and laid prone, her strong back and curved buttocks now visible to him. Her skin was very pale and white in the lamps over head. The scars were pink and slightly raised, some were very long, seeming to follow and compliment the firm contours of her body. He took a deep breath and let it out, she was beautifully mutilated.

"No long-term injuries or negative side effects to report?"

"None." she said.

Now the doctor was standing above her, shining a light into her pale blue eyes, checking her pupils.

The screaming next door began again, but Toskia knew it not to be Pyro's voice. ("Get him off me!")

"Spread your legs please. Relax it is part of the examination."

As Toskia did so she pitied Pyro next door. She hoped that what Sokov was saying just now was true, that they really were going to watch Hello Dolly on colour projector later. Pyro would need a distraction to forget all this. It was practically rape for Pyro.

"Excellent personal hygiene no signs of disease..." said the doctor, writing quickly onto his clipboard. "You may put your clothes back on and follow me to the X-Ray machine..."

The screaming next door became wilder, crazier. She recognised Pyro's voice. It was the first time she heard him speak without his mask on, she heard only one word fierce and clear; "no."

••••••••••••••••

On the train, Toskia went in search of the Heavy. She found him as usual eating his sandwiches.

"Ah. Dutch girl. Have sandvich!" He said, shoving one into her hand.

Seated also in the carriage was the half-asleep black Demoman, the lanky Sniper and the restless Scout.

"Is Pyro all right?" she asked, sitting next to Dillan who had shifted aside quickly. Nigel looked resentful that he had not moved faster himself, otherwise Toskia would be sitting next to him instead.

"Aye sweet lassie he is. I lied to him tha' this was water." Tavish held up an iconic brown bottle. "So terrified he didn' realise tha' this was booze. Gulped it all doo'wn. He's sleepin' now."

"With Solly standin' guard over him." Dillan said swinging his legs.

Nigel did not say anything but shook his head slowly.

"Hey lad, I ha'ed to do' it." Tavish said giving a languid shrug of his shoulders with his mild defence.

Nigel agreed, "I know, I know. Poor bloke!"

Toskia asked Sokov, "Sokov please tell me that we really are all going to sit in the recreational room and watch Hello Dolly on the new colour projector–"

"Hmm?"

"–and that we really have the film reel of Hello Dolly?" pleaded Toskia.

The massive Russian teddy bear looked confused for a moment, and then replied. "Yes, we should have it."

The carriage was silent for a moment in dawning of realisation, coming slowly but still harshly even though they were all worn out and tired.

"Mate?" Nigel said. "The supply truck will only be comin' in a few days time, and Hello Dolly just got aired in theatres a few days ago..."

"Man. Pyro's gonna be disappointed when he wakes then 'cause he can't watch the flicker show!" Dillan said, looking frustrated already.

"Oh no." said Sokov.

"Tell you what friends. We'll just make the train stop by the largest town, I go into the local cinema and steal the film reel." Toskia said. "I feel mischievous today."

"Good on ya' shiela!" guffawed Nigel. "This isn't right but for Pyro..."

"I'll be in on it if you need me." offered Dillan. His eyes looked bright and cunning.

"Och we got us a conspi'racy hee're wi' us no'w!" Tavish the drunk merry-maker covered his mouth with his dark, pink-palmed hand before he laughed out too loud.

Sokov was laughing, shaking his head and wagging his finger. "Is stealing. For sake of team mate!"

It was just their good fortune that all the responsible people who would not approve of this were not in the train carriage with them hearing all this. Dell, Landric and Andre.

•••••••••••••••••••••

Landric and Andre were in another train carriage talking, sitting directly across each other.

"You must have done alot of work on Toskia mon ami. I saw zhe doctor enthusiastically shaking your hand and asking you questions."

"Ja." Landric answered.

"Eh... Just curious Landric, what does she look like, you know..." Spy asked ponderously, flicking his wrist indicating under clothing.

He watched his German friend tiredly look up through his glasses. He did not look well, it was as though he was on sedative drugs.

"Are you all right?" Andre asked.

"Ja. Just alittle... tired that's all. I... Toskia..." his voice trailed off and faded. He sighed and closed his eyes.

"It is all right if you do not wish to tell me Landric. I think you should rest." Andre leaned back in his seat.

Andre observed Landric, he looked so engrossed in his own thoughts, like a thinker or a philosopher sorting out something immensely important, and was on the fringe of enlightenment. Then the German began slowly, looking at his feet.

"To mein eyes she looks beautiful, but to others she might look as though she has been mutilated."

"Well certainly beautiful to people working in zhe medical field then." Andre subtly comforted.

"Ja." Landric nodded and replied softly. "Ja."

"Feeling guilty?"

Landric's eyes seemed to be focused on some faraway distant object as he nodded listlessly. The constant sound of the train's wheels going round and round upon the track, and the sound of its engine working.

Andre looked out the window. They were passing by a large town now, and he sighed. "You must not."

Suddenly there was a deafening and very shrill screech of metal as the train slowed down and then came to halt, Landric was unceremoniously thrown off his seat forward onto Andre like a rag doll.

Breaking out of his thoughts Landric and Andre exchanged confused glances, before trying to see what was wrong by looking out of the window. They had conveniently stopped at the town's train station, and people were looking at their train, the setting sun casting orange and red highlights onto its body.

"What's going on?" Andre anxiously stood up and left the carriage.

Landric after recovering, followed the Spy out of the stifling compartment. He walked over to where Pyro was in another compartment and saw Jane carrying still unconscious Pyro to place him back onto the bunk he was sleeping in. Pyro must have fallen out at the sudden stop.

"All's fine here doc. I'll guard our man down with my life from whatever maggot threat that stopped the train!" Doe stood to attention.

He nodded to the paranoid soldier and then walked towards the front of the train, manoeuvring himself through the narrow train corridor to the conductor's room.

Andre was already there with Dell, and they were talking to the train conductor who was shrugging.

"Ah, might as well just get out and see what's wrong." said Dell. "I can probably fix it no problem."

From the conductor's window, Landric saw Dillan jump out and run through the crowd of curious on-lookers.

Framing the door to the conductor's compartment was the Demoman. "Cheers mates!" He said.

When Dell tried to get past him to get off the train, Tavish fell into his arms in the manner of one who was stone cold drunk and slurred. "Come to ma' arms Dell! If I wea'ren't a man I'd kiss ya!"

For some reason Tavish seemed to be outright _clinging_ onto him...

••••••••••••••••••••••

**End of Chapter 9**


	10. Hello Dolly For Pyro

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION NOTHING MORE. TEAM FORTRESS 2 BELONGS TO VALVE CORPORATION.**

Names: (Story was started on 29 November 2010, not all characters have been named hence the need to come up with own names)

Spy: Andre

Heavy: Sokov

Sniper: Nigel

Soldier: Jane Doe (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Medic: Landric Metzger

Demoman: Tavish DeGroot (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Engineer: Dell Conagher (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Pyro: Pyro

Scout: Dillan

OC: Toskia Van der Meer

**BOOSTER**

**CHAPTER 10**

A Team Fortress 2 Fan-fic

"You've _fallen_ inta' my arms partner! Now get offa' me, I need to go check the brakes of this here machine! C'mon Tavish." he said, trying to get himself away from the one-eyed Scotsman. "I've got to go see what's happened to the brakes of this goddamn train!"

The drunkard replied with something completely unrelated and nonsensical. "I saw a coo' jump over' the moon!"

"A cow jump over the moon?" Dell repeated with Tavish in his arms. "Get offa' me!"

"I think I'm in love wi' ya!" Tavish looked up at the Engineer and fluttered his one eye.

"EW!" Dell yelled with a panicked and disgusted expression showing his lower teeth. "Lan' sakes get offa' me!" Dell said, his voice cracking.

Andre was laughing, and then came to Dell's rescue. "Come now mon drunken ami." He tried to pry Tavish loose from Dell. For a drunk person he had a strong grip...

Landric was smirking at the sight, and then turned away. He was worried for Toskia. His logical side told him she was more than capable of taking care of herself, a little thing like this would not get her injured. But the emotional side felt protective.

Landric stopped in his tracks nearly bumping headfirst into Sokov.

"Sokov, where is Toskia?" he asked looking up attentively.

"Huh? Oh." The Heavy seemed to be moving slower than usual. Perhaps he was tired from the day's arduous tests. Landric frowned, but how odd that his mind seemed to be working slower as well.

After a few moments Landric spoke up again. "Where is Toskia?" He tried to see behind Sokov, but he was too tall and broad.

"Dutch girl? No, not seen her." Sokov still did not move, and stood at the very same spot.

Growing impatient, and knowing that Toskia was surely on the train towards the back perhaps... he irritably tried to get past Sokov. "Let me pass bitte."

"With pleasure." Sokov very slowly leaned to the side, with the speed of a very large tree being felled.

With difficulty the Medic squeezed through. He strode through the train looking here and there.

"Nigel where is Toskia?" Landric asked, staring impatiently at the Australian who looked as though he was half-asleep.

"Pardon... doc?" he yawned and stretched.

Landric wondered why it felt as though suddenly everyone had been affected by spontaneous down's syndrome. He dismissed the Australian with a grunt and went all the way to the last train car. She was nowhere to be seen.

Nigel called from behind at the last moment, "Mate? I think the sheila went off with Dillan. Jumped off the train."

Landric sighed loudly wondering why the man did not tell him earlier saving him the trouble.

•••••••••••••••••

Dillan and Toskia walked quickly through the crowded streets.

"Toskia, ovah' there!" He pointed. "C'mon over there!"

As night was pleasantly falling, the cinema's yellow lights could be seen clearly along the other low town buildings among the glowing street lamps. "Hello Dolly." The sign read.

Dillan said jostling through the crowd with Toskia, "we have ta' be quick though. I think Dell will be able to fix up the train fast."

"He won't be able to without this." Toskia spoke loudly through the chatter of the crowds of frolicking people around the area, and showed the Scout a large and heavy wrench.

Dillan wore a crooked grin and shook his head in approval. "I don't know how he's gonna react though..."

"We shall find out later. For now, the film reel." She put the wrench back into the large pocket of her coveralls.

•••••••••••••

A LONG TIME AGO IN YESTERYEAR...

It is in the clinic of the facility, Toskia is laying on an examination table. Her surgical gown pulled up exposing her white legs. Dr. Metzger is there removing her stitches.

"_Does it still hurt my girl_?" The surgeon asked, gently pressing her thigh with his warm hand.

"_A little_." she replied.

He looked at her as he worked with his thin stainless steel scissors, snipping the threads woven into her healing skin slowly and carefully. She was so young, he felt as though he had stolen her from her family, and damaged her.

"_Can I hold your hand betreuer?_" she asked. She turned her head on the table to the side he was standing at to face him.

He said gently, "_but if you hold my hand my dear how can I remove your stitches?_"

His female patient responded by uncertainly stretching out her hand and feeling for his waist, sticking her fingers into his belt and held it firmly. She closed her eyes and began to doze off, slipping away as if being carried off by fog from the painkillers.

With a pair of forceps, Landric pulled out the bits of surgical thread. So many more stitches to remove. He paused one moment, and looked at his work. The healing scars looked like the natural striations of the muscles. It was beautiful, the scars looked abit like a biological chart showing the muscle groups beneath the skin of the human being. Of course the effect was entirely unintentional, Landric was merely enhancing the major muscles he saw fit.

He continued with his work, her slender fingers still were holding onto his leather belt, but was slightly looser. She was falling asleep.

She whispered something in Dutch of which Landric did not understand. ("In deze wereld bent u de enige die ik vertrouw.")

He laid his hand for a moment onto her soft, pink cheek to comfort her, thinking she was saying how much in pain she was, or how frightened she was of all this.

He tenderly looked at her after he had cut all the stitches, and then he picked up the forceps again to pull out the cut stitches sticking out from her fair skin. She was not a child, yet not a grown woman. He cared for her very much and constantly fussed and worried about her like a doting parent, or a gardener worrying about his most fragile flowers.

She murmured again, just before her hand fell away from his belt. "Alleen jij."

Landric thought about her harmless crush on him. His gaze raved from her pale exposed skin, to her more private and secret of areas, of what he had seen before beneath her clothing during check-ups. He wondered what would be like to feel the forbidden inside of her warm mouth with his tongue. He clenched his hands, thinking how might it be like to touch her in a non professional or medical manner. He opened his mouth to breath better blinking his glazed grey eyes.

The doctor coughed suddenly. He instinctively pushed his glasses up his nose, and guiltily pushed the disgusting thought from his head.

••••••••••••••••••••

BACK TO THE PRESENT...

Dell sighed in relief. It took a few minutes to get Tavish off his body, and when he did, Tavish clung tightly onto his denim overalls. He was muttering drunken love confessions which made Dell cringe and his skin crawl.

Dell was standing outside, and he turned back to see Tavish saying something to a very amused Andre. Dell shook his head at the merry-maker's prank.

He went to the front of the train and looked at it. There was something jammed into the brake. It was a pebble tightly wedged in there. Theoretically it could have gotten in there by chance, but it was so unlikely...

Where the heck was his trusty wrench anyway?

••••••••••••••

Toskia had already entered the dark storeroom of the cinema and was walking among the dusty shelves looking at the numerous circular metal cases holding the reels and reels of film.

No Hello Dolly.

They probably were all presently being played in the theatres, or already loaded onto the projectors.

"Toskia?" asked Dillan quietly. "After we get the film, can we steal the popcorn cart?"

She was impressed that the young man could be quiet if he wanted to. But she could tell it was not easy for him. He had the manner of a jack-in-a-box, ready to spring at any moment.

She mused out loud. "Why would we want to–"

"For Pyro man! He loves movies! Y'know last I heard he ain't never gone to a real cinema to watch a flicker show b'fore. Because of his, you know..." Dillan fumbled with the correct words, but made Toskia understand by swiftly gesturing at his face.

"Fair enough. Pyro would like it. Steal the popcorn cart... which one, the one at the entrance or the one inside at the lobby?"

"You're the brains of this outfit man, I bash people up good but don't know nothin' about stealing."

She put her fist on her chin thinking for a moment. She said, "Let us go and steal the film reel first. To the projector rooms..."

•••••••••••••••••

Dell sighed. He wondered, it was completely unlike him to misplace his tools, where was his wrench? He sat down in the conductor's seat in the engine room.

Andre with his intuition and sharpness, said he thought the train stopping had something to do with Toskia. Why he could not imagine clearly. Perhaps she needed to get something. Still, he thought that he might as well leave the train for an hour or so, and continue his conversation with Landric.

The Spy and the Medic went out, and sat at a small café just outside the train station. It was right next to the main street, with a good view of the town and people walking by. The warm sun had completely gone down now, and the cold white stars and moon were just beginning to appear from where they usually hid in the day.

They sat with other customers, at small round tables with wicker chairs. Theirs was right on the cobblestone street itself.

"So Landric. Do you want to continue our conversation?" asked the Spy. He leaned back after taking a sip of his strong coffee.

The Medic pulled his wicker chair closer to the table and leaned in with both elbows upon it. "You are so persistent."

"But of course." Andre watched him expectantly. He had removed his balaclava before they came to the café, lest the townsfolk think him a robber in a suit.

The doctor said looking at him, "I see the lady killer from the description of your dossier."

Andre playfully scoffed. "It is not all about looks, my good doctor. A man can have none and still be successful in seducing women."

Landric said, his voice softer. "I don't know about Toskia... I... The age gap..."

"What age gap?"

"She is so young." Landric said frowning looking up at Andre's devastatingly handsome face.

Andre's face was now complimented with a quizzical expression. "Young?" As Landric closed his eyes and picked up his black coffee to drink Andre told him, "I think you have her confused with the child you worked on over a decade ago."

Landric swallowed the strong bitter coffee enjoying its long finish. "Ja. I think zo. I can't... I can't touch her witzhout seeing that girl she was. I..."

"I?" Andre raised his eyebrows expectantly. "I what?"

"I am not a pedophile!" Landric said, anxiously widening his eyes one moment and looking into space.

Andre picked up his coffee cup and brought it to his lips taking another sip before calmly placing it back onto the table to say, "I see that zhe new team mate is a woman in her prime. A mutual killer like all of us."

Landric was stirring his black coffee distractedly.

"You are guilty because of zhis?"

The doctor bit his bottom lip and blinked a few times, once again in thought and deep self-reflection. Andre could see alot of confusion and conflicting thoughts within the German, the physical tells were obvious to him since he was a trained and very sensitive profiler. He also saw alot of stress. What was taught to him as a spy was right, when emotions were involved, people immediately knew less about themselves. When emotional, people could be transformed into someone else entirely. They could be pushed to do things they usually would not. It was why Andre decided to allow this matter to rest for the time being.

The two friends continued drinking their coffee. The people around them getting more comfortable and chatty with their company as the night came forward into their beings.

•••••••••••••••••

Four unconscious people were propped up against the wall in the projector room, the light coming from the projector flickering while the movie played.

"I think this is all of the staff here." said Toskia, crouching by one of the unconscious people wearing the smart uniform of the cinema.

"No, let me go get the security guard." offered Dillan, without even waiting for Toskia to reply to that offer.

As the Scout swaggered confidently out the door of the projector room she called after him in a bewildered manner, "you mean these days they actually have security guards for cinemas?"

"It's to make sure people my generation don't cause a ruckus."

Toskia shook her head to herself alone in the room. She came to the conclusion that she once she had left the Blue team as a mercenary she would have to take a year or so to wander about among people and places.

A moment later Dillan returned brushing something off his pants, "So now what?" He sniffed and wiped his nose.

As the movie played, Toskia said her eyes directed upwards as she reassessed her plans, "we have two options. I favour the second. I shall just take the film reel, and announce to the theatre that there has been a technical difficulty, and that it will take fifteen minutes to fix it."

"We'll get the popcorn cart right?" Dillan eagerly reminded her, his face lit by the dimly flashing projector.

"Yes we will." Toskia continued, "It will buy us... I think at least thirty minutes to get back to the train station. By the time the people are at the front desk demanding their money back, we will be long gone."

"What was the first plan?"

"The first plan was that you enter the cinema screaming that there is a fire. Not good."

"Oh."

•••••••••••••••••••••

"I think I vill be fine." Landric said, finishing his coffee.

"You will." Andre said, patting his friend's shoulder.

"We have been here long enough, we should go back." Landric insisted to pay the bill.

Andre laughed and teased, "Oui. Your love interest should be back on the train by now."

Landric was about to give a clever retort, when something caught his eye. Moving through the noisy crowd on the street was Toskia and Dillan, both wearing red and white striped suits which fitted them poorly, pushing a popcorn cart. He could see them clearly from the way the electric bulb inside the glass cabinet holding the popcorn lit their faces with its light.

Andre was quick to notice what was so interesting that Landric was staring at. For a few seconds they sat there following their movement with their heads, before exchanging glances and getting off their wicker chairs to follow at a distance their team mates disguised as popcorn vendors.

At the train station, Toskia and Dillan seemed to act completely natural even with the rest of the Blue team giving them questioning looks while they grinned, wheeling the wooden popcorn cart into the back of the train.

Toskia then formally returned Dell his wrench and apologised for her little prank. She refused to answer any questions asked, until the train was running again.

As the train sped along, Toskia found Landric sitting with Andre in a carriage compartment. She had already changed back into her coveralls, and said "hello" as she stood there at the door.

"Please join us." invited the Spy.

She paused a moment staring at Andre's unmasked face and then sat next to Landric. She complimented the Spy, "with looks like yours I cannot imagine why you would want to cover your face."

"Oh, I cover my face because of vanity." Andre replied silkily with a smile.

She laughed at the answer, with its witty play on contradictory elements.

"Will you tell us now what is zhe popcorn cart sitting in zhe back of zhe train is for?" asked Andre animatedly. "Zhat was crazy."

"I would like to give myself the credit for coming up with the idea, but it was Dillan's. He thought it would make a good gift for Firebug." she explained, sighing in relief from getting out of that ridiculous red and white striped uniform.

The Medic remained still and silent, his expression controlled and unreadable.

"Please tell me zhat you–" Andre began his gaze calculative, his pleasantly shaped brows furrowed.

"Yes, no traces. It would look just like petty theft." confirmed Toskia raising both her hands up. "It is in the interest of the team that our members are all mentally and emotionally sound. This will make Pyro happy."

••••••••••••

"MMmmmpphh mmpphh?"

"Aye boyo, feelin' any better noe?" The Demoman shook his friend with his dark hands.

They were in the infirmary, and Pyro was just beginning to wake up. He said something muffled to Tavish, pretending to wring his neck. The eye-patched Demoman apologised and helped Pyro up and brought him to the recreational room where the projector was already loaded with the film reel of Hello Dolly.

All events of the day forgotten, Pyro clapped his hands and laughed at the sight of the popcorn cart.

"Hhhmm hhh hhhmmooo dhhhlllee!" He raised his hands and jumped for joy.

"Yeah." Nigel said. "Toskia got it for you. She stole the reel from the local cinema."

"Opph mmhhy hhggodd." he said. Turning to face Toskia.

"Yeah, but what the heck, it's hee're already mates. Let's just watch it."

Sokov had already found out how the thing operated, and was popping the corn, the yellow and golden brown morsels falling from the metal pot inside the glass cabinet. The fresh smell of it filling the recreational room. He shovelled it into the striped open-top cardboard boxes he folded from the cart.

Naturally they placed Pyro right up in front. He sat there, watching Hello Dolly and listening to the cheerful music holding his popcorn with both hands giving him a child-like countenance. The expression upon his rubber fume mask permanently the same, but surely beneath his flashing glass housefly eyes and snout he wore a bright smile.

•••••••••••••••••

The Medic sat in his office joining the infirmary. Half-way through the musical he escaped. He was unsettled and in no mood to watch it. He was thinking about Toskia and was wondering what was wrong with him. Her presence seemed to grow ever stronger, all she needed to do was just be in the same room and that was it, he was finished. As a psychologist he knew, he needed to come to terms with himself. He would have to look closely why he was feeling so many conflicting emotions about her at the same time. Guilt, affection, fear and... love? But not tonight...

The Medic felt a familiar craving– he needed his drugs. This vice would make him feel better.

Perhaps he would take ketamine.

A mad and stupid thought entered his troubled mind. Maybe he might try and overdose, and literally die happy. He held a small bottle of the drug in his gloved hand, turning it over and looking at the crystal clear liquid within it.

He blinked. No, he would use a low and safe dose. He filled the syringe, and was about to inject it into himself when of course _she_ had to come find him.

When Toskia entered the room he had already given it to himself, in that spur of the moment. He was looking up at her, his stricken eyes wide and with the expression of being caught red-handed with misconduct. He pulled out the needle from his skin and laid the glass syringe aside.

"Betreuer..."

She stood there looking at him. He was already leaning forward onto his desk, his chest heaving. The door was locked, but she picked it, and came in upon this scene.

He said. "Sorry..."

Toskia snatched the bottle from the table and read it. Well, at least it was not poison. She stood there staring at him, how much he had taken she did not know, and was immediately worried that he had overdosed. No, he was not so reckless as that.

Now he had his face resting on the table. His eyes looking as though they were sightless.

"Betreuer. I was hoping to come find you and talk to you. Now you have done this to yourself." She knew that he surely could not hear her clearly. He seemed to respond by blinking once with his half-closed eyes.

She came to his side, and gently shook him. His soft lips moved, as though he wanted to say something.

Suddenly there was the sound of light footsteps. By reflex Toskia strode to the door and quickly locked it. She would not allow anyone to see her Betreuer in this present wretched state, she wanted to protect him from humiliation and preserve his dignity as the team's doctor.

Through the wooden shutters, she saw who it was. It was Nigel. Perhaps he had followed her here. Predictably he knocked tentatively on the door. ("Toskia? You in there?")

Toskia gave out a sound of exasperation. He was supposed to be with everyone else watching the movie! Was she so obvious leaving the room?

Her light blue eyes moved to the open window behind Landric's desk. She waved her hand in front of Landric's face, he did not react. Toskia sighed, and gently closed Landric's blank grey eyes, before easily heaving his body onto her strong shoulder. She folded Landric's glasses and put them in her pocket, then stoically climbed out of the open window.

•••••••••••••••••

**End of Chapter 10**


	11. Drug Addict Transporter

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION NOTHING MORE. TEAM FORTRESS 2 BELONGS TO VALVE CORPORATION.**

Names: (Story was started on 29 November 2010, not all characters have been named hence the need to come up with own names)

Spy: Andre

Heavy: Sokov

Sniper: Nigel

Soldier: Jane Doe (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Medic: Landric Metzger

Demoman: Tavish DeGroot (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Engineer: Dell Conagher (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Pyro: Pyro

Scout: Dillan

OC: Toskia Van der Meer

**BOOSTER**

**CHAPTER 11**

A Team Fortress 2 Fan-fic

Outside abruptly feeling the cold night air on her skin, she climbed onto the tin roof of the base, and made her way to where the Medic's open room window was. From the roof, she swung down, mindful of Landric's neck, lest her movement might sprain or injure his limp body. Toskia gently laid her betreuer onto his bed, and arranged his body into a position that was not awkward.

"You drug addict." she said accusingly to him.

He moaned weakly in response, his head listlessly turning to the side completely lacking any vigour.

She took one last covetous glance at him, laying so helpless on the bed. His hands were beginning to grasp at his sheets, wrinkling them. It was due to the effects of the drug he took no doubt, his face was not relaxed, but marred with an expression of frustration and gradually surging torture. She did not like what she saw.

She went out by the same risky and dangerous manner from which she came, though very well used to, and dropped back into Dr. Metzger's office. Luckily, the Australian was still there, knocking on the door. She feared for a moment that he might go to Landric's room to ask for the keys to his office because Toskia had apparently locked herself in there. It would appear that as a sniper, he had his patience.

"Sheila what are you doin' in there?" Came his voice.

She finally opened the door for him. He stepped into the office, taking his bush hat off in greeting. Nigel said smiling, "I saw you go, and followed ya' hee're."

"Uh, I was not feeling well. I seem to have gotten gastric and came here looking for some medicine."

He looked at her face. It was slightly flushed, and she was sweating lightly. What was she doing so long in the office, and how did she get in? The doc always kept his office door locked. "But the meds are all outside on the shelves in the infirmary." Nigel's expression became ponderous. It was only the painkillers and anaesthesia that was kept in Dr. Metzger's office, among other non-conventional medical drugs.

Nigel curiously peered behind Toskia, who appeared to be nonchalantly calm. The usually immaculate desk had a bottle of something on it, and an empty syringe. Inwardly he panicked at the signs.

"How'd cha get in hee're?" he asked.

She did not answer, and seemed to realise that she was in a tight spot when she looked behind her and saw that her recent activity was in plain sight. Nigel could not blame her for being careless, drugs had a tendency to fog one's brain right up.

Nigel, with his warm blue eyes wide with shock and worry said aghast, "How long you been doin' this? Does the doc know?"

"Eversince. Yes he knows– he lets me. He gave me the key." Toskia lied, trying her best to keep her speech as fluid as possible. Her mind was working in overdrive making up lies. She was more used to performing with her body, she had the ability to pretend well, but not come up with stories.

"What the hell the bastard. Why?" Nigel fiercely demanded, and held Toskia's hands in his own squeezing them. "Are you troubled... don't do this to yourself Sheila!"

"I am fine. Do not worry about me." she said blinking, feeling uncomfortable with his fawning. A spurt of annoyance came up within her at what Nigel called Landric.

Nigel was irrationally worried, he said, "I care about you alot girl. Do you wanna talk about this?"

"No. I am fine." she lied, thinking how to get rid of him, thinking how to change the subject.

Nigel looked at his feet for a moment, and looked up at her again, his sincere gaze penetrating hers. His voice dropped lower and became suggestive and husky. "You sure, do you need me to comfort you?"

She suddenly threw her arms around his neck and kissed his rough cheek. "You are so sweet Nigel. Don't worry about me I am fine. Go back to watching the movie."

He held her and rocked her body abit in that embrace. He said, "What did ya' give yourself?" He was stroking her fine blond hair.

"Ketamine."

His hug tightened. "Jesus Chrio'st and you can still stand straight?"

"Yes. Many years of abuse have built this formidable resistance." was the automatic, mechanical and lifeless reply.

"Oh my God." He gasped softly, holding her tighter.

"I don't like you to see me like this. Please go back to watching the movie." Toskia said, breaking the embrace with both her hands on his chest as she pushed him away slowly.

"If you need me..." Nigel began. He could not understand what she meant by that, she looked perfectly normal other than being slightly out of breath and flustered.

But Toskia had already swiftly walked past him and out of the office and infirmary. He stood there not knowing what to do, or how to react, and heard her footsteps change as she broke into a run.

••••••••••••••••••

She would stop at this. She told the Medic she would not be sexual with him until he was ready. She had returned to his room to check on him after she managed to get away from her concerned Australian friend. Presently she stood at the far side of Landric's room, with her burly arms folded and her back leaning against the wall. For Landric's comfort she had removed his shoes, socks, white lab coat, belt and thick rubber gloves.

"Are... you still... here f-fraulein?" Landric was on his back, half-asleep. His voice hushed, his German accent pleasantly lilting. It was so much more appealing to Toskia, it was as though he was drowsy from just engaging in passionate sex.

"I am here." She was wondering if she could make him like so after being intimate with him. Would she be able to put him at peace, and make him all quiet with sensual and emotional fulfilment like how he was now?

"... how embarrassing." The Medic weakly held his hand up. It looked odd with no glove on it. "Come here... bitte."

She sat on his bed, and held his cold hand of which he put into her lap. The effects of ketamine thankfully wear off fast. Within an hour if the dose is not too great.

Her pale eyebrows were lowered into a frown. "Do you do this often?"

"Nien... nien only... t-tonight."

Toskia narrowed her eyes, not understanding the whole thing. "Why only tonight?"

"... I don't... know." he spoke, his voice becoming frail and stifled.

"What would happen if you did not take drugs?" she soothingly pressed, looking down at him laying by her. She wished she could do something to ease his suffering if there was any, but she was as helpless as he was.

"I... don't know." he murmured, swallowing.

It would appear that he still could not think straight. He shifted his bare fingers in her lap. All Landric knew was that she was here and that he was in a safe place. Still in that weightless body of water of which the ketamine made him feel he was in, he stayed. Neither floating nor sinking.

•••••••••••••••

Nigel did not go back to watching Hello Dolly with the rest of the team. He was not up to it, instead he returned to his cosy little room instead, and sat in his tiny couch.

He rubbed his feet on his kangaroo skin rug. His feelings for Toskia was growing. How kind of her to care for Pyro, getting him that movie and stealing the popcorn cart. Even Nigel did not expect that one. It was really funny and endearing to see Dillan pulling the cart from in front, and Toskia bringing up the rear. Complete with red and white striped uniform as though they were working at a funfair.

His heart thumped hard at the idea of her taking drugs. She did not appear to be the sort to take drugs. What was worse, the team Medic knew and irresponsibly did not do anything about it! Nigel could blame Metzger, but he could not blame her, she probably had been through alot in her life.

There were so many things of which he wanted to know about her. When he asked, she would change the subject. He decided that she did not want to tell him, and he respected that.

The Sniper leaned back in his seat, and took off his hat and polarised aviator sunglasses.

His thoughts wandered to Landric. What was his relation with Toskia? Why was the older man so close to her, was it just basic paternal concern for her as the team's psychologist? It was as though the two knew each other before joining the Blue team... He decided, maybe he was insecure. He reasoned if Dr. Metzger was more than just friends he would not allow her to continue with her habits.

Then there was the question of the origin of her scars. She told him that they were from numerous operations to enhance the strength of her muscles. But where did she get such a thing done? Did she do it voluntarily...? What did her family make of it? If she was forced... what kind of sick people would do such a thing?

The Australian shut his eyes.

•••••••••••••••

"The effects are vearing off..." Landric sat up on his bed, trembling. "Danke for bringing me here."

Toskia had brought a chair to the side of his bed, she had been sitting there for nearly an hour keeping watch on Landric, the only light that was on, was the light from his bathroom which she had kept the door open to let the light in.

"Betreuer, I do not like to see you like this."

He took a moment to sigh, not turning to face her he replied under his breath, "You vere not supposed to."

Watching his sharp side profile, just enough to see in the dim light Toskia said. "You cannot go on like this."

"I have been going on like this for years fighting for the Blue team." He turned his head to acknowledge her, and then turned it back to its original position, facing forward towards the empty wall. He was beginning to regain his usual serious composure.

"You can't."

"Vhy?"

"You did not used to be like this." she recalled. From so disciplined and sure a man, he was now reduced and bent out of shape to this.

"There is no o'zzer way for me to cope mein fraulein." he said without feeling.

She leant forward in her chair closer to him, to breathe into the back of his neck and said boldly, her alto voice direct. "You have me now."

"Are you saying you are good for me?" Landric said, shaking at the feel of her warm breath. She was so close he could feel it, he almost expected her to touch him.

"If only you would let me." She laid her warm hand onto his shoulder, and squeezed it sentimentally. He breathed in and closed his eyes at that. She knelt behind him, and now had both her hands on his tensed shoulders. "I can take you away from this, all this meaningless death and killing."

Still somewhat numb from ketamine, the Medic turned his head around to try and see his former experiment, and what looked like what was becoming more and more his younger lover. Through the drug he could feel just ever so slightly, his blood beginning to race. "Vhere is this place?"

Her face was now only inches from his. Again he saw her gentle blue eyes watching his gloomy grey ones. He gasped when she chastely kissed his cheek softly from behind. He momentarily drew away from her in surprise and shyness, and then incited by her actions he secretly wanted to kiss her in return.

But he did not.

Unable to see her face since she was behind him, weakly he held her hand that was on his shoulder, he shook his head.

"I know, I understand betreuer... Are you sure you do not want me to spend the night with you?"

As she left him Landric told her, "When you come visit me the next time in the night... I shall be ready for you." He breathed.

"I love you betreuer."

"Ich liebe dich auch." he whispered honestly.

••••••••••••••••••

In her room, Toskia spied a telegram for her sitting on her desk. It was from T.F. Industries. Her mouth turned downwards sad that she could not be with Landric tonight, she sat at her table and read it.

**Miss Van der Meer,**

**We have decided a change of rule for your class. It would be ludicrous for you to only be able to steal or sabotage one thing a day, and have the rest of the day off doing nothing while your team mates battle.**

**From now onwards you will be also able to act as a transporter, with your strength carrying your team mates to better areas previously inaccessible to them. It is logical since you are from the new Tactical combat class. The individual classes that you will work best with are the Sniper, Engineer (for use of teleporters and automatic guns), Demoman and the Spy.**

**Here at T.F. Industries we are already planning further augmentation to be done to your physiology after your next weekly test run/after the ceasefire.**

**As Saxton Hale of Mann Co. said before, "when you do something do it right."**

**There are no other alterations to other rules, your only weapons remain your brass knuckles and taser. Although you are not an offensive class, killing the Red team if by accident which is bound to happen will be overlooked.**

**Your class name has been decided, it is "Booster." We will keep you updated on your rules via telegram.**

**Yours sincerely,**

**Miss Pauling**

More augmentations? Toskia involuntarily looked at both her hands. It would mean more time in clean operating theatres, more painkillers and antibiotics, being on a drip again. Going crazy from being forced to keep still on a lumpy bed covered with an itchy blanket. Glinting stainless steel needles. She sighed angrily and shuddered.

Her head turned to her wall, on where she hung all her equipment neatly, each in their places grouped together. She could do it, she did it before, and she would come out stronger from it. Bloody operations.

She put her hands on the back of her blond head and leaned back, arching in her chair and stretching. When she breathed in loudly through her nose she caught a whiff of men's aftershave. She jerked in her chair frowned.

Someone had been in her room. She shrugged, she was too tired to bother, she would access the matter in the morning. She stripped off all her clothes and draped them onto her chair intending to turn out the lights and go to sleep. It was then when she heard the soft sound of someone breathing.

She stood there a moment, and then turned around swatting at the air in the corner of her room. There was a cry of surprise when her hand met something solid, and then a wisp of smoke billowed, revealing a man in a red suit. It was the Red Spy.

Toskia did not have anything to say, she knew she just wanted to kill the man if possible.

The Red Spy was on the floor, rubbing his chin. She had struck him that hard. His lip had been cut, and he casually licked the blood off it with his tongue. "You hit me good. Still so confident even when naked?"

"Get out."

The Red Spy was already on his feet, straightening his suit. "You are the new team member Blutarch Mann hired." His eyes followed the contours of her body, looking at the ugly scars all over it. Still, there was a sense of power emanating from her. Her nakedness ironically did not make her more vulnerable, but more commanding and admirable.

Toskia had her black taser in her hand, and she had already turned it on. The electrical current buzzed and snapped menacingly.

The Red Spy had his gloved hand on the door. "I know more about you zhan your own team mates my dear. I am still zhe best. I know why you are here. I know you still work for BEACON."

He was good no doubt, the Red team had the best spy. She waved the crackling taser in her hand. "BEACON has been liquidated. You of all people should know that."

"But your loyalties lie not with the Blue team. Well at least... only for now." he baited the woman, wanting to see if she had a temper.

"I do not know what you are talking about." lied Toskia. Her pale fingers tightened around her taser.

The Red Spy turned his masked head to the side. "You are a terrible liar my dear. Your physical tells are minute but very distinct..."

"Get out!" she yelled. She raised her hand.

At that the Red Spy bolted through the door his tanned leather dress shoes producing that distinct pattering sound, and Toskia pursued the masked man with her taser. She did not care that she was stark naked. She wanted the man silenced before the rest of the Blue team found out, if he yelled something stupid that would cause complications.

She chased the nimble and slender man through the dark corridor and he ran into the canteen. It was thankfully empty. He ran higher and higher up the stairs of the Blue base and she pounced onto him, forcefully pinning him upon the floor and stomping onto him. She did so with the barbaric manner of a street fighter, before stepping back and shooting the taser at him.

"Merde!" The Red Spy screamed and twisted on the floor shaking from the current.

Toskia looked at the taser and sighed that it only had one standard voltage, and that she could not sadistically turn it up higher. Maybe it could be possible to cook meat via electrical current. They would certainly have to try that during their next Blue team barbecue.

From the stairs came the Blue Sniper and Pyro.

"Spahhh!" came the muffled yell from Pyro's rubber mask. When he made to turn around to go and get his fire man's axe, Nigel stopped him and pulled out his gleaming jungle knife.

The Demoman appeared from behind but he acted faster. He jammed a blue flashing grenade into the electrocuted Red Spy's open mouth and viciously kicked it in, making his jaw dislocate from its hinge.

Everyone took the cue and ran away to a safe distance. Even the Spy's dead ringer could no way help him in this predicament. He would respawn within the Red Base in a moment or so.

There was an ear-splitting bang, and hot red blood, brains and gore splattered around the area as it blew up covering the walls and ceiling with tiny red spatter marks.

"Excuse me." Toskia said after a moment everyone recovered from the sound. She walked away from the scene turning her head to the side, "We can talk about this in the morning, I do not want to be an eyesore for you gentlemen." She paused and turned, "Goodnight Nigel."

"Bloody spy." muttered Tavish. He looked at the despicable mess on the floor. "Tha' taser's powerful though, shocked me abit when I kicked in my grenade..."

The Red Spy's head was completely gone, with most of his shoulders charred and the rest of his upper body blackened. Further down, his red suit still covered his headless body which was still twitching. The spot in which his head used to be was black and steaming, the white vapour wavering in the air. The worst was the smell. It was burnt human brains, skin and cloth.

"Don't even hae' the decency ta' let tae' lassie get dressed before attackin' her." The Demoman swayed on the spot abit and asked, "does any'oone knoo' wha' happened to the lassie?"

"Surgery, enhancements." said Nigel looking at the nude form of Toskia just disappearing.

"She bein' ne'kkid gave me a more of a start than the Re'ad Spy in the base. Mercy me, I'm going back to sleep..." Tavish slurred rubbing his face. "Bloody spies, wha's so interesting wi' wha' people do'o in the night? She's got pluck a plenty thoo', no't even blushin' that she hae'sn't a stitch of clothing on her."

"Shhpph gphh uh mmyyf fffggguhh." Pyro said gesturing animatedly at this body.

"Och! Yeah I agree wi' ye on that. She's got a real nice–" Tavish commented just before he was sharply interrupted by the Sniper.

"You stay away from her all rio'ght?" Nigel's features were stern.

"I love booze more 'en women mate." Tavish wandered back to his room and the Pyro followed suit. It would appear that they were together in Pyro's room watching another movie before they heard the noise and trouble.

Nigel went to call the Blue base cleaners before the dead corpse started stinking up the place. He did not like the idea that another man had seen Toskia without her clothing, it should only be for his eyes only.

•

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•••••••••••••••••

**End of Chapter 11**


	12. Just Friends

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION NOTHING MORE. TEAM FORTRESS 2 BELONGS TO VALVE CORPORATION.**

Names: (Story was started on 29 November 2010, not all characters have been named hence the need to come up with own names)

Spy: Andre

Heavy: Sokov

Sniper: Nigel

Soldier: Jane Doe (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Medic: Landric Metzger

Demoman: Tavish DeGroot (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Engineer: Dell Conagher (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Pyro: Pyro

Scout: Dillan

OC: Toskia Van der Meer

**BOOSTER**

**CHAPTER 12**

A Team Fortress 2 Fan-fic

Dear Readers,

As MidNight has stated "for something M-rated for sex, drugs and violence there isn't enough on here." All right, I shall add more.

••••••

It was in the wee hours of the morning. Nigel lay in his bunk, the blue-grey morning mist was still present on the horizon when he turned his head to look out the window. Night was just leaving. He was a light-sleeper. Even though last night was highly eventful and tiring, it was just his training. It was how he was able to sleep and wake fast on very long missions.

He was sure that his other team mates would still be soundly asleep. The physical tests had affected him as well, his muscles were aching, with a dull pain every time he moved. But it was not as much as how his heart longed for Toskia.

He shifted on his bed beneath his sheets. He could see her vividly in his mind's eye. Last night he got an even better view of her muscular and scarred body, how her pale and firm flesh moved as she fought, and then how she proudly carried herself when she went back to her quarters. He was hopelessly drawn to her, like a moth to a fire.

Nigel opened his mouth to breath with his eyes squeezed shut. His hand had found itself on his hardening groin, and he groped himself roughly. In his mind he could picture her face, and the feel of her warm writhing body against his. The sound of her breathing and gasps...

The Sniper remembered her mentioning to him that she also was a light sleeper, because her profession sometimes required her to actually sleep at the area at which she was going to break into when the time was ideal.

He groaned as he got out of his bed, his arousal shamelessly pushing through his thin night clothing. His hand was still on it, he squeezed and stroked it guiltily enjoying the pleasurable sensation.

"No." He thought to himself. He would not waste himself like this. He grimaced at having to control his need to masturbate and relieve his lust, and went to take a cold shower. He wore his night shirt again.

His intent was to visit Toskia in her room while it was still dark, and he did precisely that.

"Toskia?" he called her softly through her closed and locked door, after knocking it with his knuckles a few times.

"Nigel, is that you?"

He heard shuffling in her room. Then the clicking of her door being unlocked, before it opened partially. Her hazed blue eyes were still half closed, and she said, "Good morning."

He let himself in, and she showed little or no objection to that as the door closed behind him. He meaningfully locked the door, the clicks sounding clearly. Their eyes met. In the dark he initiated a kiss with her. "Good morning sheila."

"Why have you come here Nigel?" she asked gently. She flexed and stretched her stiff shoulders, trembling abit. She was cold and disoriented since she had just risen from sleep.

"I've just been missing being alone with ya." He looked at her affectionately, his naive blue eyes following the neckline of her night shirt. "Will you let me hold you...?"

She appeared to give him consent, pulling him with her to her bunk, holding both his hands in the greyish-blue light. Nigel blushed when she pulled off her standard Blue team cotton night shirt, revealing her body.

He climbed into the bed with her, and she pulled the warm blanket over the two of them.

She said, "Keep me warm, I'm cold."

Nigel pushed her beneath him, and laid his head next to her face. Their bodies rose and fell as they breathed. His heart was fluttering pleasantly, he felt so content with her! It was as though nothing could go wrong in the world. All there was, was perfect harmony.

"Toskia... I like you."

"You're a good friend Nigel." she replied softly, her warm hands trailing down his back to his waist. But her eyes seemed to say otherwise, looking away from his, turning to the side.

He gripped her tighter at that and whimpered nudging his nose against hers, "But I want more. I want you to feel the same way I do!" He could feel her breath on the skin of his face.

"Why? What is there to feel, am I not in your arms now?" was her quiet reply, her lips barely moving. With that, she brought her open mouth to his neck and tasted his skin.

"Mmm." He savoured the sensation it gave him, and he pushed. "I lio'ke you. I have feelings for ya girl."

She grimaced at that began to push him off her, shifting uncomfortably. She wore a startled frown on her face just visible in the dark. "Why did you have to say that, you have ruined the moment."

He was hurt by that, yet still aroused and lusty by the warmth of her body. He firmly pinned her down onto her bed and kissed her. "Because I want to." he said defiantly.

The two stared at each other in the dark, the tension was rising.

Feeling his warm erection against her thigh, Toskia asked quietly, staring straight into his eyes. "What do you want from me?"

"All of you." came the vague and breathless reply.

Her hand squeezed his buttock. "I am here."

The Sniper closed his deep blue eyes and kissed her lips once, drawing away to look at her. He felt his heart breaking in bitter disappointment, "you don't feel the same way do you?"

"You are a good friend Nigel, I can't." She breathed.

He was confused by that statement, was not a lover the same as a friend of whom one was intimate with and cared about?

She continued, massaging his tensed up shoulders and kissing his neck. "I love you... as a friend Nigel. I can't feel more than that."

"But–" he began and was silenced with her hand grabbing his groin which was increasingly throbbing harder with lust. He gasped, "W-will you ever feel more for me?"

"I'm sorry." she said. Her hand was still feeling his sensitive privates. She was trying to distract him.

His heart wrenched as if having a bullet go through it, yet he writhed in arousal as her hand kneaded his stiff erection through his thin cotton clothing. "I still love you." he insisted.

"You have to control your feelings then." she pressed her lips over his and kissed him, slipping her tongue into his willing mouth and feeling his tongue meet hers.

He moaned at the taste of her, pulling at her and possessively grinding against her. His most base needs were surfacing fast. "I can't..." he said those words in passionate anguish. Nigel's heart was pounding faster.

Toskia was pulling up his night shirt, but he caught her hand and tried to stop her from continuing with her passion play. He would not let her change the subject. Even with her hand groping him, through his underwear he said through his teeth, "why won't you- why can't you love me?"

With surprising force, she pushed him off herself, and changed positions with him, the blanket rustling. She did not answer. In a manner lacking any romantic sentiments, she flipped up his night shirt and began to suck him.

"Argh." Nigel threw his head back as he forced her mouth off his hot and pulsing member. As he did so, he felt her teeth graze the sensitive head of his phallus.

"I see you will not let me change the subject." she said. She looked up at him, both her hands on his thin but strong thighs.

Looking at her pink parted lips, Nigel breathed heavily. "No I won't." He pulled her into a stifling and yet affectionate embrace.

Kissing his sweaty neck, she said, "Because I can't."

"Why?" He struggled to keep his thoughts together, feeling her firm hand stroking his excited member. His breath came in rags.

"There's someone else."

He held her wrist, feverishly trying to make her stop, and gasped when she again, squeezed his turgid flesh. "I-it's Landric isn't it?"

She nodded once without stopping. She was impressed that he could still think straight with all she was doing to him.

"But why, he's not good for you. What kind of s-sick person lets a team member be on drugs...?" Nigel was shocked and incredulous.

"Enough of this talk. More sex."

He groaned in physical pleasure, but in stabbing emotional hurt as she had her way with him. She began to unbutton the collar of his night shirt, kissing his mouth in the process.

She was in love with their Medic? But why? In so short a time?

Upset and with his heart beating faster, he angrily grabbed her soft breasts and pinched her nipple. He felt as though he wanted to punish her by raping her, he felt like she needed to feel what he felt.

But it would only be rape if she was unwilling, and it would not happen. She responded by kissing him more forcefully, causing slight pain in biting his tongue.

Laying on their sides, while he was inside her, he stared at her longingly. This was the closest he ever felt himself get to another human being. This was different from all the rest, this was with a person he cared much about, of whom he felt had common interests with him. Their throbbing sexual organs fitting together, like a lock and key made of warm flesh.

Breaking apart a kiss, he thrust into her in a needy, animalistic manner. It was an irony, he had her right there with him, but it was not enough, he wanted more.

Both her hands were on his hard shoulders, kneading them apologetically. She watched his expression, he was sweating from lust and desire, but his face... His half-closed eyes showed anguish and disappointment. As though he could not accept a hard and horrible truth jabbed at him.

Toskia's body jerked at his thrusts, she grimaced feeling his firm member go in and out her hurting and wet sex, forceful and unforgiving. He looked as though he was frowning at her, and it was not from the effort of coupling.

Feeling pain mingled with pleasure, she cried, "Nigel..."

He began to moan agitatedly, not letting up. He felt his blood pounding in his temples, rushing throughout his body. This was crazy and confusing. His groin and thighs were aching pleasantly, but she was so tight even though she was wet enough... She began to cry out.

"Stop it Nigel! You're hurting me!"

He felt her hand clap across his face sharply, it brought him back down to earth despite him so close to ejaculating. He gasped and blinked, reluctantly withdrawing his penis from her, a string of their sexual fluids linking them together still. He was numb, physically and emotionally.

"I-I'm sorry Toskia..." He panted, running his knuckle against her pink cheek. It was still dark, the sun had not risen yet.

Beneath him, she flopped her head back onto her pillow. She closed her eyes breathing heavily as well. "I am too."

"I should go now sheila..." He made to leave, but felt her hands reassuringly took hold of his forearms.

"I'm not that uncaring." she said. She gently changed positions with him and held his tired erection. "But... this has gone far enough Nigel. This is the last time we do anything like this."

The Australian's body relaxed under her, but his heart was overflowing with agony. He moaned softly as she pumped her hand up and down his swollen member. She kissed him again, running her hard tongue over his, while her hand glided expertly upon his hard muscle. She played with his flushed foreskin and sensitive head.

The throbbing in his groin grew stronger, and Nigel held her free hand. His eyes were shut tight, and he moaned to her that he was coming. He felt the familiar spasms ensue, as his watery white seed spurted out. Then, he felt her hand let go of him.

"What about you?" He felt for her moist pubic area, and then fleetingly touched her sweet spot. "I'm sorry I hurt you..."

She sighed at his touch and shook her blond head once.

•••••••••••••••••••

SOMETIME BEFORE DR. METZGER JOINS THE BLUE TEAM AS THE MEDIC...

_It is in Stuttgard, Germany. Landric sits in his home study reading a letter from an unknown company called "BEACON."_

**Greetings Dr. Landric Metzger,**

**We at BEACON are pleased to inform you that we have a job opening suiting your abilities and achievements. Your talents have caught our discerning eyes and we have head-hunted you.**

**Please, meet our assistant at the address and time stated on our business card in the envelope. If you do join, you will be paid well under our employment.**

**Yours sincerely,**

**Operations Department,**

**BEACON**

Landric blinked and adjusted his black round glasses. Working in an ordinary hospital was taking its toll upon him. He hated that infernal place, and much less the sorry patients who came in and left through its doors.

His compassion had been lost years ago. He could not care less whether his patients in the operating theatres survived or not. Not that he did botched jobs on purpose or did not perform his best... But there was nothing new... Nothing exciting, no discoveries to be made, or unpredictable experiments to conduct.

As one of the top surgeons, he attempted to rebel once, and not wear his surgical mask and cap. He was about operating like so the whole day, and no-one gave a damn. No-one even told him off or reported him. Boring! He may as well went topless. The thought was most entertaining, but he knew he would never do such a thing ever.

The routine was as plain, as straight, and as predictable as a dead brown wooden ruler.

Perhaps BEACON would be a more interesting workplace? Perhaps it was a private medical facility? He grinned his iconic grin showing his teeth. He would find out in the job interview then, of what was it all about.

••••••••••

**End of Chapter 12**


	13. Giving Head

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION NOTHING MORE. TEAM FORTRESS 2 BELONGS TO VALVE CORPORATION.**

Names: (Story was started on 29 November 2010, not all characters have been named hence the need to come up with own names)

Spy: Andre

Heavy: Sokov

Sniper: Nigel Mundy

Soldier: Jane Doe (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Medic: Landric Metzger

Demoman: Tavish DeGroot (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Engineer: Dell Conagher (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Pyro: Pyro

Scout: Dillan

OC: Toskia Van der Meer

**BOOSTER**

**CHAPTER 13**

A Team Fortress 2 Fan-fic

"The ceasefire has ended. I will be with you all for a week, and then during the weekend I have to go to T.F. Industries for more augmentations to be done to myself." said Toskia.

"Whoo!" cheered the Scout. "I finally get to whack in some skulls with my bat again man!"

"What kinda' augmentations are we talkin' about pray tell?" asked the Engineer. He blinked and rubbed the back of his neck. He looked odd without his yellow construction hat and goggles.

"Not to worry. I have had such operations before. Gene therapy to enhance one's muscle strength."

"Operation... How can ya heal over the weekend?" Dell asked concerned, his blue eyes inquiring.

"I have not been briefed entirely, I think I may have to spend time at the medical side of T.F. Industries. In a ward while I recover."

There were two more days before the ceasefire ended. It was an interesting time for the Blue team, who felt all kinds of emotions all at once. Regret that their holiday was over, suspense and yet anticipation and excitement that they could go about killing each other again and again.

Toskia sighed and looked across the recreational room at her team mates. It was some time after dinner. Dell had already left to sort out his tools, and to "warm up" again to make sure that his hands did not fumble when setting up his machines in battle.

The Heavy Sokov, was sitting on a couch with his mini-gun "Sasha" on his lap. He was meticulously polishing it to glossy perfection with a cloth.

Pyro sat in a corner, in a manner much like a child playing with matches. ("Mmmm!")

The dark Demoman was lazing on an armchair, he was smoking quietly with the Spy. Andre was holding his butterfly knife, flicking it open and shut in his hand, its steel clicking rhythmic and constant.

Predictably Nigel was nowhere to be seen. Toskia was relieved that he was not there. Meetings from then onwards were bound to be horrifically awkward, since the professional's feelings for her were no longer platonic and getting more and more intense.

The Soldier was reading Sun Tzu's art of war, hunched over a table. As always there was his worn and pock-marked helmet upon his head, the straps dangling slightly as his head turned whilst he read.

Where was Landric? She frowned.

•••••••••••••

"Betreuer?" she called as she approached the infirmary.

There was no answer. She entered and saw that the light was on in his office, and the shutters were brought down.

When she entered, Landric had the back of his chair facing the door.

"Toskia?" he did not move.

She walked past his desk, and saw that he was sinking in his chair, just looking out of the window. One of the long white sleeves of his lab coat was pulled up to his elbow, exposing his pale skin. Evidently he was feeling lonely, and his company was what he put into himself.

"You must stop doing this betreuer."

"I am tryingk."

"How." Toskia said, standing there in her dark blue coveralls, gesturing simply at his exposed skin.

He moved slowly to face her. His usually piercing grey eyes were dull. "I am takingk less. Vould you be so cruel to make me go cold turkey?"

She laid her hand onto his shoulder. "No. Can you stand?"

He breathed and held her hand upon his shoulder. Then leaned forward, doing the usual movement of a person just about to stand before getting out of a comfortable chair.

Toskia held his hand, feeling it through his rubber glove for support.

"Betreuer you should not wear your gloves so often. Hands are sensitive things, and not allowing them to feel is like punishing yourself."

He replied with a small smile as he swayed on his feet. His eyes were downcast, and he allowed himself to be led by her back to his room.

•••••••••••

SOMETIME BEFORE DR. METZGER JOINS THE BLUE TEAM...

The good doctor was very unused to meeting under such shady circumstances...

He did not even know that such a place existed in Stuttgart. It was a small little bar, with a stage in which a band of black Jazz musicians played.

He sat in the corner table, under the hunting trophy of a bison as instructed. His interviewer claimed that his fame preceded him, and that he knew what the doctor looked like.

Being German, the doctor was punctual. He was five minutes early, he saw that he was, after checking his wrist watch in the dim light.

"Hallo?" He uncertainly greeted the man who joined him at his table.

The man removed his hat and draped his coat on his chair before he nodded and replied, "Yes my good man."

The band illuminated by small spotlights continued to play, and a waiter came by asking what drinks would they like.

"I'm Renfield." The man introduced himself, and leaned onto the table extending his hand.

Landric stared at the man's suede-gloved hand, and shook it. "Dr. Metzger. You are from BEACON ja?"

"Yes. We are in need of a surgeon. But not just any surgeon, specifically one of your talents."

"Ah, but that vas a long time ago. Und only one of ten patients survived..." Landric frowned and blinked. "It was not very published, something like secret. How did your company know?"

The man put his hands together and answered smoothly and confidently, "I am not in that department. I am just an interviewer."

"Tell me more about zhis company." Landric ventured. He took a sip of his drink, he ordered a beer out of politeness. The was looking more and more dodgy by the moment.

"We have many departments. Evidently you will be in the medical and scientific one."

"You vant me to do the same enhancements onto..." Landric caught on. "Your employees?"

"Well not only enhancements!" The man raised both his hands and shrugged his shoulders. "Also to treat injuries, specific injuries involving bullets. You were in the war as a medic in the field, so we could really use that experience."

The stylish black musicians played on.

•••••••••••••

BACK TO THE PRESENT...

"You have me now. You do not need all this." said Toskia softly but dominantly, like a loaded gun held to his head.

Landric was trembling slightly, as he watched her remove her shoes and join him on his bed. The sheets were cold since they just got into the room. He swallowed and did not say a word, and looked at her seeing her as how she was now. He calmed his anxieties by telling himself; they both were older. It was all right now.

Her thigh was against his, and he could feel the heat of her body emanating from it. She was patiently waiting...

Landric clenched his bare fists, and pulled off his glasses, folding them as if they were an irritant and laid them aside near his bed. He knew what he had said to her earlier before, he was remorseful that his lack of confidence was surely making him look very much like a fool.

The Medic held the Booster's hand and brought it to his lips kissing it. His skin tensed as he did so, as though something sharp had pricked him.

His blond team mate gently pulled at his collar to say very softly, "Are you ready for me?"

"Ja." he lied. He was not ready, but he sorely wanted to continue. His pride would not allow him to make himself look like something lesser than the intimidating surgeon she knew a decade before.

He laid down, and dragged her along with him, holding her close to his heart. Landric sighed and ran his hands over her broad back, stroking her uncertainly, getting used to her and her unfamiliar, but warm and welcome embrace.

"Betreuer your heart is hammering." she said into his chest.

"Ja." was his quiet answer. He held her tighter. He wanted to fall in love with her, he wanted to trust her, he wanted her to be close. Yet he would not admit to her that he was nervous tonight, she was a stranger, and yet not one. It was all so strange.

He closed his eyes when he felt her fingers brush the sensitive skin of his neck, she already had feelings for him, and had kept them for years. She was so confident, was she not afraid of heartbreak?

She moved, shifting her weight on top of him, and then looked into his eyes. She kissed him gently, her warm hands on the sides of his face. As always her mouth was soft, and the strokes of her tongue slow and reassuring.

Landric looked away from her smouldering gaze and swallowed, he felt excited, guilty and afraid all at once.

He breathed softly, holding her hands in his. He was breathing through his mouth, and he blinked flustered by the physical and emotional sensation being with her gave him. The medic felt as though he was at risk, he could not see clearly without his glasses, and was in the arms of someone who was surely a match for him in a fight.

Landric steeled his resolve, he held Toskia's pale face firmly between his hands and pushed his mouth over hers in a kiss. He could still feel her steadfast thoughtfulness for him, she returned the kiss but with a muzzle of control over it.

He held her relaxed hand, and guided it to his groin. He was too shy to tell her how he felt, instead he let her feel him for herself.

"You're so quiet betreuer." Her hand closed over his most vulnerable area, causing him to gasp softly and blink heavily.

"Vhat would you vant me to say?" He mumbled, averting his eyes one moment. He languorously closed his eyes when he felt her hand began to knead that of which was rapidly hardening, his cheeks beginning to burn in a blush.

She kissed his pink ear before saying, "Not say, but express, what you feel."

His heart thumped at that suggestion. He opened his mouth to say something, but he could not, no words came forth. He was so sure a man of science, but so clumsy a lover it would seem. He felt as though this time was the first he had ever engaged in intimacy.

They kissed softly again, before he began to pull off her clothing. His thoughts running amok in his head, he said, "I vant to trust you..."

He felt his pants being pulled off, he saw them in a blur being tossed aside, his belt buckle hitting the floor with a clink. He held her tighter, as though fearful she would leave. His hands were wandering beneath her clothing now, tugging them off...

•••••••••••••

SOMETIME BEFORE DR. METZGER JOINS THE BLUE TEAM...

Still in the bar, Landric turned his head abit and asked, "What does BEACON do?"

"I've answered that question already my good man. There are many departments." Renfield answered simply.

"Is BEACON legitimate and legal?"

Renfield smirked and winked. "Now, that is the correct question I've been waiting for." He leaned forward and lowered his voice, looking around being wary of eavesdroppers. "Most of BEACON does legal affairs, some parts of it doesn't."

"Ach!" Landric made a face. "Nien I..."

"Well you have that. Are you psychic somehow knowing you will be working in our 'private' department?" Renfield sighed with a small smile. Oddly he looked sincere although the lighting was barely there.

"Why vould your employees get such injuries like bullet wounds?" Landric asked, his logical mind failing him. What illegal activities was he going to assist in, doctor assisted homicide?

"Large scale operations, like... stealing perhaps?" suggested Renfield.

Landric covered his face. "Mien gott."

"Will you take our offer for the job? If you prefer you can be safe in our base instead of working out in the field with our employees."

Landric said sarcastically, "You might as vell call them 'agents'."

"That would be too shady and classless." entertained the interviewer jovially.

Landric wanted a new job, not one like this. "Nien. I will never do such a job, or work for such an employer!"

"Well, I shall tell my employer your decision then. Now, let's just enjoy our drinks and the music for the night shall we?"

•••••••••••••••

BACK TO THE PRESENT...

"You are exciting me..." he hissed softly.

"I am wet myself." she replied.

Her warm hands were on his face, her body was pressed against his now, and she was rubbing her foot against his shin. She began to whisper sweet nothings into his ear, yet they had such gravity and seriousness that he could not ignore.

His unsteady hands trailed over her back and body. He could feel her surgical scars, slightly raised... he wondered if they still hurt her sometimes. Gently he felt her firm buttocks, and then her soft breasts.

For awhile there was nothing but the sound of their breathing.

"Ach..." he moaned. He shifted abit under her, and sighed in relief when he felt his sensitive member move into a more comfortable position against her white body.

He felt her move her thigh, teasing him. He knew she would not hurt him, she had no reason to this time.

"If you are too shy to ask me what you want, at least still be vocal..." she said.

"I.." His hands gripped her tough shoulders.

He closed his eyes feeling her hand now closing upon his member, blushing at her comment that he was circumcised and that pleasuring him would be challenging.

"Betreuer it is a nice shape." Was her compliment.

"Danke..." He blinked, his vision blurry. She had moved down, and was laying her head on his stomach, feeling his sexual organ gently. Landric shuddered at how pleasurable her touch was, yet he felt afraid and vulnerable.

"You're so clean. But why are you so silent?"

Her lips were moving against his erection. The medic felt as though he was going to go mad with arousal, he wished to be bucking inside her, to be loving her.

"V-vhat?" He gasped out, squeezing her hand. He bit his lip with his eyes tightly closed, feeling his member throbbing and it felt as though he was getting even harder.

Toskia shifted and suddenly put her mouth over his hard and throbbing flesh and began to taste him, her tongue moving against it, sucking his erection. With a hand, she massaged his thigh. She frowned in frustration, he was so silent.

She stopped to hug him and kiss his ruddy face. She looked into his eyes and asked, "what's wrong?" Waiting for him to answer she gave him sweet kisses upon the side of his face and neck. She could feel the mad rush of blood to her temples, she was so impassioned by him.

"Nothingk's wrong..." Breathed Landric. His head was pleasantly spinning, his arms tightened over Toskia possessively, her legs entwined with his. "Why?"

"I want you to moan for me Landric." She held him there again, and jerked her hand gently causing him slight pain coupled with pleasure. "Am I not pleasuring you?"

"Ja. You are. I vant you..." He pulled her against his body and kissed her passionately, his lips hardening over hers, his tongue stroking hers...

Toskia broke the kiss and insisted, "moan for me." Her hand was still on his member, now a drop of pre-cum was running down upon it.

"I don't know how. I haff never done so before..."

She assumed her former position, and began to pleasure him with her skilful and soft mouth. It sent wave after wave of pleasure surging through him, it felt as though the blood pounding through his body had increased in volume. Then his emotions... his heart was bursting with affection for this woman.

Her warm hands rested upon his writhing thighs, kneading his tense muscles. She slowly stopped, and insisted gently. "Moan for me..."

She lay on top of him, and whispered. "You can trust me, I won't judge you..."

Landric was blushing, his heart was pounding in his ears, and his eyes were half closed. Again he felt her hot mouth on his sex, moving. He gasped when he felt her nip him gently.

"T-Toskia..." He closed his eyes breathing loudly through his mouth, if she did not stop he surely would climax.

She stopped and hissed in lust and desire, her hands clutching his sweaty thighs. "Pleasure me by moaning for me! Express yourself, I hate it when men are silent!" She was no longer so gentle, she became keenly forceful and dominant.

"Argh! Argh..." He moaned in pain. "I!" Landric could feel her mouth and teeth now, as she bobbed her head fast, he felt as though he was going to explode. The pressure was getting so intense. "Argh... mmmnn mmmnnnfff mmmnn!" He came with her mouth over his pulsing cock, through the pleasure and overwhelming sensation he regretted that he could not control himself or warn her.

"Toskia... I'm sorry I... it is bitter..." He mumbled, still recovering from his climax, his heart still beating so fast it was like a runaway train.

She kissed him silent. "It's okay. But it's you... it is okay because it is you."

The Medic felt his ears turn red when she said that, he was touched by it, it was as though he was loved and accepted by her. He hugged her for a moment before continuing with their passion play. He said, "now I vill pleasure you..." They laid down on their sides, and his hand found itself between her legs, searching for that small mound of flesh that pleasures women.

Just seeing her rosy face, and how her expression softened as he moved his finger pleased him and made him content... But it became better when she began to moan in pleasure. It was so erotic and romantic! His wife never moaned for him. But no-matter about that mad woman, he had Toskia now.

••••••••••

**End of Chapter 13**

Sorry that it look me this long to update! I'm learning discipline, at mastering myself. You all know how hard that is. Any requests on what you all want to see? Come on, review! Motivate me!


	14. Honig

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION NOTHING MORE. TEAM FORTRESS 2 BELONGS TO VALVE CORPORATION.**

Names: (Story was started on 29 November 2010, not all characters have been named hence the need to come up with own names)

Spy: Andre

Heavy: Sokov

Sniper: Nigel Mundy (recent Team Fortress 2 update)

Soldier: Jane Doe (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Medic: Landric Metzger

Demoman: Tavish DeGroot (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Engineer: Dell Conagher (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Pyro: Pyro

Scout: Dillan

OC: Toskia Van der Meer

**BOOSTER**

**CHAPTER 14**

A Team Fortress 2 Fan-fic

"Och, and I've be'en shaggin' yer wife!" taunted the Red Demoman, holding up a broken bottle over his head, under his foot was Landric's broken chest, his white coat was frayed, burnt and singed black.

Landric stared up through his broken and bloody glasses at the Red Demoman, and breathed in defeat, "Ja... I know."

The broken bottle came down onto and into his face, and then down another time, again and again, shards of glass cutting and then getting wedged into his skin and bone. Through flashes of pain and blurred vision within his fragmented mind's eye he relived the scene. In which he came home, on leave. Thrilled and joyful that he could see his wife again after so many months. He eagerly called out to her in his native German. "Honig, honig! Habe ich nach Hause komme jetzt..."

It was already eleven 'o clock in the night. She was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she was asleep in the bedroom. When he opened the door he dropped his briefcase at what he saw.

Only when he had gone back to the Blue base which was empty since everyone had gone home for leave, did he access his emotions. He coughed at first, and then the tears started rolling down his cheeks at the betrayal and broken trust.

A few days later he divorced his wife. He should have known she would have done something like that to him. She used to be loose, but after she met him she promised she would change. She lied.

Through his heartbreak, he felt a twinge of insecurity. Maybe he was not able to satisfy her in bed, maybe he was not enough for her. Then heartbreak turned to anger, she did not defend herself, she did not try to mend whatever was left. Then it dawned on him, she did not love him anymore, it was just that she did not tell him.

•••••••••••••••••

"Betreuer, betreuer... Oh you're crying... You're having a bad dream..." came her alto voice into his ear.

Landric blinked and held her hands which were on the sides of his face. "Mein gott..."

They kissed softly. Was this make-believe? What was he doing with his patient, would he be hurt again?

She said quietly into his ear, "What was the dream about?"

"It happened a few years ago..." he replied in the black dark, feeling her warm body against his as they nestled together in his small bunk. He felt for her hand and clasped it in his for comfort.

As he told her, he felt her move and lay on top of him. She stroked his forehead to soothe him and make the bitter pain go away. Sleepy, the two fell back into slumber.

Early in the morning Landric rose first, and was pleased to wake up with Toskia next to him. His body naturally feeling stiff and cold from sleep, he snuggled closer to her and stroked her face with his finger to wake her up.

••••••••••••••

It was in the midst of battle during high noon. The Red and Blue fought each other beneath the hot, blinding light of the sun in the desert.

At the side of the building, Toskia scaled upwards with Nigel clinging onto her shoulders. She stopped, and steadied herself, nodding to Nigel who aimed with his sniper rifle.

After he had fired a few shots she moved again, lest their position be found out.

"The point should be ours..." she said, pulling herself and Nigel up onto the roof. "Managed to head-shot anyone?"

"I got the opposing Pyro and Scout." was his reply. He was reloading his weapon, the back of his vest was wet. His sweat had seeped right through.

Toskia wiped the sweat out of her eyes and flexed her tired shoulders. She looked far to where the point they were supposed to capture was. The rest of their team mates were already there.

Nigel was on one knee, looking through his scope for the enemy sniper. He could not find him... Suddenly the vision of his scope became cloudy. "What the-"

Pulling his scope away he saw in the distance creamy white smoke fogging the area. He mumbled, "Is the enemy Pyro's flamethrower malfunctioning?" He then suddenly recalled that that could not be the case, since he shot the Red Pyro but a few moments before, he could not respawn that fast.

"No... I think that is gas." Replied Toskia, squinting in the sun with her hand over eyes, shielding her blue eyes from the glare of the sun. "The Red team has gotten their own tactical class member."

"Wha' the... that's not fair. Is that even allowed?" Nigel said, squinting into the scope of his gun.

"New member for the tactical class." Replied Toskia. "Has to be."

The two on the sizzling roof heard blood curdling screams, and knew that it was their own team mates being felled.

"Ah piss." said Nigel. He looked through his gun scope again immediately after he saw a small sparkle in the distance. It was the reflection of the enemy Sniper's gun. Nigel gunned him down.

Toskia pulled from Nigel's pocket his binoculars and scanned the area with them. This new team member of the tactical class was there, predictably in a fume mask, but much different from the Pyro. The mask covered only the face, and on his body were so many types of grenades. Flash grenades. Smoke bombs. Tear gas. All for cover.

"D' ya see the new yobbo?"

"Yes. The new yobbo is a woman." she replied. She recognised the "man" that was there. This was not part BEACON's plan, she was not supposed to join the Red team! What was going on?

"Excellent it means I can get a shot." The Sniper held her hand, disguising his lingering affection for her, and led her to the other side of the roof. He took his gun and looked through its scope steadying himself on his knee.

Toskia watched with apprehension as he pulled the trigger and as he whispered, "You've got a forehead on ya' like a coffee table."

•••••••••••••

"Gentlemen and lady." said Andre. It was right after the nightly ceasefire had started. The team sat in the canteen, waiting for their dinner to be served. Andre continued, "We need to come up with some new tactics to counter the Red's new class."

"Darlin' do you know when might all of ya'll tactical class people'l be comin' in?" asked Dell, removing his dark welding goggles.

Toskia was sitting at a table, with her hands flat on it, gazing blankly off into the distance. Her expression did not alter as she slowly shook her head statically.

"You didn't know this was gonna' happen did' cha?" asked Dell.

"No." Toskia replied.

Sokov slowly looked up from his mini gun sitting upon his lap and asked slowly, "Does Toskia know about rest of tactical division?"

"I don't." Was her reply, as she put her hands on her head one moment.

The Heavy sighed and said, "But fight goes on. New Red member is good. Nerve gas hurt worse than bee sting, and then I die."

Landric recalled how Pyro had tried to save the both of them, by air blasting away the canisters spewing out the gas. Pyro, was the only one immune to it.

Sokov had already keeled over dead, and Landric was a few feet away choking and twitching. Death via nerve gas was not nice. Fortunately the enemy did not seem to have very many of those, she was using them sparingly.

Nigel held both his hands up as his food was laid before him. "I'm just glad the day's over mates. We can just chow down, and plan how to counter them."

"Ah thought I was dr'ounk or waste'd more' n usual mates. Fla'ash grenae'de go't tae me." Tavish muttered, his one good eye wide and staring as he recalled what had happened earlier in the afternoon.

Dell shuddered. His welding goggles protected him from the flash, and so he saw everything that happened. Tavish yelled that he was "bloody blind" and swaggered about screaming shooting his grenades about randomly, destroying his sentry guns and a dispenser.

Well they could adapt, in time they would figure out this new class's weaknesses, who should run after her, and who should run from her.

That night's dinner it was mushroom soup, macaroni and cheese with baked potatoes.

Landric watched as everyone ate, it was odd because Dillan was not boasting or making a spectacle of himself. The effects of the tear gas was still upon the boy, he sat there rubbing his red eyes and coughed softly while he ate.

He smiled when Toskia sat next to him to eat, and she affectionately squeezed his thigh under the table with her warm palm.

She seemed to be thinking and distracted, her ice blue eyes were staring straight ahead into nothing. Maybe the new enemy disturbed her.

The Medic blushed and called her name. "Toskia?" His heart beat faster at the thought of inviting her to his room for a shower and later a warm cuddle.

"Yes?" she asked, turning one moment to look into his grey eyes and smile momentarily at him.

Landric hesitated, and then said under his breath, "vould you come later to see me tonight?"

"I'll be late..." she warned, after squeezing his thigh once more in affirmation at his invitation.

•••••••••••

In the Red Base the new team member sat in the canteen staring at her team mates. She was sure that she was supposed to be in the Blue team. Was there a mix-up?

Her name was "Phoung Ly." She was a medium-built Vietnamese, with black eyes that slanted slightly fitting well with her tan complexion. Quietly she ate her bland meal and observed. Her black hair was of medium length, a typically accepted length for military operations. She would have to send a letter to BEACON and ask what on Earth was going on.

She was very unsure, and it probably showed. It was a good thing that she was able to pass it off as shyness and being unused to a new daunting environment.

The information she was given was that the Red members would look oddly identical to the Blue's. The reason was not stated, she was trained to follow orders, and by nature she was not the sort to be curious and ask questions. But this was all wrong. All wrong.

The Medic was not German, he was Chinese. The Heavy was an African, not the supposed Russian. The Demoman was drunk all the time, but he was a white Irish man. The rest fit mostly. Mostly.

She spoke casually to her team members, about the day's events while half her mind lingered upon what to do. She had not seen Toskia anywhere, not even on the battle field. She could not ask for her either, or she would blow her cover. Perhaps Toskia was not here yet? If she was on the Blue team she was doing a very good job at remaining hidden.

Her suspicions were confirmed when she overheard her team members talking about the fact that she was here for balance since the Blue team got a new team member.

Ly got up after she had enough of her meal, and went to her drab and empty quarters to think. She looked out the window, the sky was overcast and it was getting dark bringing the night with it. There sitting on the horizon of the desert was the Blue base.

The room still smelt slightly of stale air and of being unused for a long time.

There had been a mistake. Now she had to decide what to do. She picked up a flash grenade and idly spun it on her table, yet her mind working fast and focused.

It would be unwise to do anything rash. She tried to calm herself by closing her eyes and taking deep breaths while wearing a frown.

•••••••••••••••••••

In her room Toskia wrote and sealed a letter she had addressed to a "Mr. Renfield."

After doing so, she dropped it into the base mail box and then made her way to see Landric.

She would eventually have to try and find Ly to speak in private and plan how to work around this mix-up. Bloody hell, she would have to wait two weeks for the damned letter to get here. The fighting, dying and stress was beginning to get to her. Hopefully she would be able to make it out of this hell sane and in one piece mentally.

She recalled her Betreuer as someone calmer. But in battle he behaved differently. He would go into into a different state of mind, like anyone engrossed in a certain activity yes. But he did not used to be sadistic and maniacal. Masochistic even.

She had included in the letter she just wrote, her observations in the change of character of Dr. Metzger, and asked for instruction whether or not he was still useful.

That day, she saw him fighting while she scaled the side of a building with Andre. Sokov had been blown into pieces of meat and cloth textiles by the enemy Demoman, Landric was a few feet away. The light of the sun made the scene obvious and glaring, impossible to ignore or miss.

Her Medic was sliding against the wall, bloody, and punched with numerous bullet holes. She could just hear him laugh and say, "Ha ha Oktoberfest!"

He continued to wear that rape face even as the enemy Pyro stepped over with his fire axe, to cleave his body open, chopping through bone and muscle and allow his living organs to splatter out from his red and white double-breasted coat and abdomen.

Toskia closed her blue eyes as she knocked on Landric's door.

When the door opened she saw her dear Betreuer standing there with a soft smile on his face, and with one of his white doves sitting on his shoulder.

"Toskia, vhat's wrong, your face is pale." He held her hand. He had already removed his stifling light blue rubber gloves.

He led her into his room and watched her movement. She did not look like herself. She did not resist when he hugged her and led her to his bunk. Worried, he whispered, "Toskia, tell me what is wrong?"

"I don't know." she intoned, twisting her shoulders uncomfortably.

"Vhat's happened?" He laid aside his round glasses, so that he could nuzzle his face against hers. "Are you fallingk sick?"

"Have you changed much Landric... are you a different person now?"

"My core is the same. But I am breaking Toskia... It is like I have two sides of myself now... With my drugs I cope, it helps me forget and not think... But I am happy that I have you now. You calm me..."

Landric cradled Toskia feeling her against his chest, as they breathed softly taking what comfort they could have to forget. Landric liked to believe himself as a psycho killer, but he was not. Taking up this job was foolhardy. He could take experiments, patients dying on him. But not the noise and gunfire and heat of battle, he never got used to the fear and excitement of war. He was a doctor and scientist, not a warrior.

At times he could behave like he was crazy and loved every bit of it. But that was not really him, he was scaring himself that he was starting to actually believe in his own lies.

"Do you want me to take you away from here?" asked Toskia silently.

"Yes... I do." Landric blinked and stroked the top of her blond head which was resting on his collar. "In what way...?" Did she mean by state of mind with erotic pleasure, or literally?

"Take you away from this bloody place."

"How?"

"Away from this base and fighting."

His fingers gripped her firm body tighter. "... how?" he repeated, his eyes closed in concentration, trying not to be distracted with her so close.

She pushed her face against his neck, with her lips moving against his bare skin. "Do you want me to? Say it."

His heart thumped. "Yes. I do." he whispered firmly.

"Come with me to BEACON."

••••••••••••••••••

End of Chapter 14

Sorry that it took so long to update friends! I was having some block but I'm in the flow again.


	15. Half Lies and Half Truths

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION NOTHING MORE. TEAM FORTRESS 2 BELONGS TO VALVE CORPORATION.**

Names: (Story was started on 29 November 2010, not all characters have been named hence the need to come up with own names)

Spy: Andre

Heavy: Sokov

Sniper: Nigel Mundy (recent Team Fortress 2 update)

Soldier: Jane Doe (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Medic: Landric Metzger

Demoman: Tavish DeGroot (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Engineer: Dell Conagher (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Pyro: Pyro

Scout: Dillan

OC: Toskia Van der Meer

**BOOSTER**

**CHAPTER 15**

A Team Fortress 2 Fan-fic

"Come with me to BEACON."

"I don't understand..." Landric blinked, his grey eyes unfocused searching the blurry image he saw of his room. He cautiously turned his head to look at his door.

"I'm sure it's locked. It is a habit you have, reflecting your insecurity."

The Medic's doves hopped about then huddled at his window.

Although they were entirely alone, Landric dropped his voice. "You... you are still vorking for BEACON in secret? Then why are you here?"

Toskia bit his neck and shifted her mouth to his sensitive ear to say into it, "I'm here to recruit you and a few others." She ran her fingers through his greying hair.

Still laying together upon Landric's bunk, with just the light coming in from the bathroom's open door they continued to discuss this tryst.

"But our contracts will end long from now..." Landric swallowed.

"I'm going to steal you away from here. We will escape."

"I assume all this has been planned in detail?" His thoughts were racing, and his chest swelled with hope. He could be away from here, he could be safe. He could with his Toskia... maybe if she would let him. "You were issued with orders...?"

"Yes. Specifically you and a few others. They want you because of your medical skills and breakthroughs in your inventions."

"Who else?" Confused and still stunned Landric nervously asked, he was breathing faster, and holding Toskia to his chest more firmly feeling her with his fingers.

Toskia looked into his face in the dark. Her face was blurry to him without his glasses, but as always he could see her beautiful blue eyes, which were getting so familiar to him. "It is not necessary for you to know for now."

Landric's breaths came in trembling gasps, and he closed his eyes slowly and murmured, "I trust you Toskia. But when? I will have to operate on you this veekend for more enhancements."

"Timing is crucial. Leave this to me and tell no-one."

They kissed passionately.

••••••••••••••••••••

The relentless and permanent sound of gunfire chatter echoed all around them. A few days had passed.

"Are you ner'vous about your opera'tio'n?" shouted Andre, hanging onto Toskia's shoulders as they moved up the Red base.

Toskia stopped at the highest window, and waited for the sound of gunfire to stop to answer without shouting above the noise, "No."

"My God." Andre heaved himself through the window. He raised his voice again when there were the sounds of grenades blowing up. "It won't hue'rt but it is still scary oui?"

He appeared again with the Red intelligence briefcase in his hand, with one foot on the window sill, while Toskia still hung precariously on the outside.

The sound of sentries and mini-guns ensued, racing through the air like hot knives through butter, Toskia shouted while scaling down the building, through the voice of the Administrator announcing that the Red's intelligence had been stolen. "Less scary than being out in the battle field."

The two looked upwards. The Red Demoman's head was sticking out of the window that Andre had earlier emerged from. He looked exactly like one-eyed Tavish, and had his grenade launcher aimed at them. The fact that those from the Red Team looked exactly the same as those from their team never failed to unnerve. It was like an irrational phobia that one never conquered.

"Merde. It's zhe drunkard."

"Hold on tighter to that briefcase than my neck Andre!" Toskia began to move faster, and flipped them both onto a corresponding window the enemy's grenades fell, exploding like miniature fireworks.

They jumped the last floor down to the dusty ground, Toskia winced as she sprained her ankle, the sound was audible.

Now with his other hand free, as one held the briefcase and the other was around Toskia's neck as they climbed, Andre shot down the Demoman who was laughing and taunting them from the window.

"I'll get zhe intelligence back to zhe base, wait for le doctuer to find you."

"Stop talking and run!" Toskia turned and hobbled to find cover and safety. She watched Andre in his blue pin-striped suit disappear into the distance in the blinding hot sun.

Resting behind a stack of crates, probably filled with sacks of grain, Toskia hid in the shadow and waited. Sweating from the heat she squinted when she heard footsteps which were not distant. She drew out her taser.

"Fraulien! Mein fraulien! Vhere are you?" Came Landric's distinct tenor voice.

"I'm here Betreuer..." She held her taser tighter, and turned it on.

Landric appeared around the corner with his medigun. "Put down your taser fraulien..." He frowned and adjusted his glasses. "Why would you vant to hurt me, are you in shock?"

She looked up at him from where she was sitting on the floor, with her back propped up against the crates. She shot her taser at him anyway.

Landric cried out in shock and pain, arching his body and collapsing onto the floor, shaking violently, the dust from the ground staining his white coat.

Toskia turned up the current.

Landric's voice grew louder and louder as his spasms intensified and reached a peak, before he became silent and started smoking, before catching fire. She watched his charred remains through the orange and flickering flames change into that of the Red Spy's.

•••••••••••••••

The mail finally came in. It was on a Friday night, close to nine. Toskia started when she saw Nigel sitting by a table near where the pigeon holes were for mail. He was writing a letter, presumably to his parents.

He did not notice Toskia standing there at the corridor in her dark blue coveralls. Her eyes shifted to her pigeon hole, and sure enough was a letter there, the response from Mr. Renfield.

Just then Nigel took off his leather bush hat and sighed deeply, and stretched. When he saw Toskia he smiled and greeted her.

"Hello shiela."

"Nigel." She nodded once and turned to take her letter.

"There's a letter for ya."

"Yes I know."

"Who's it from?" Nigel's puppy-dog blue eyes widened slightly in curiosity.

Toskia took it and put it into her pocket. "It's a secret." She wore a small smile upon her fair face.

Nigel raised his hands in a harmless gesture. "All rioght', all rioght. I won't pry. C'here and talk to me. It can get pretty boring here at the base."

She sat next to him and replied. "I know what you mean." In her mind she was most eager to read her letter, but she hid it as well as she could. "What do you all do for entertainment here anyway?"

His innocent dark blue eyes turned to watch her before replying, "Nothing much. There's poker night at the inventory. There's the occasional barbecue..." he raised his eyebrows in thought.

"Or getting drunk with Tavish."

"Yeah that sounds about right." He said in his Aussie accent.

Toskia turned her blond head to the table. "Letter from your parents?"

Nigel sighed and leaned back into his chair. "Yeah. My father calls me a 'crazed gunman'."

"What's wrong with that?" sympathised Toskia, she folded her arms and tilted her head to the side.

"I hate it when he calls me that. He's been calling me that for years, since I got this job."

She observed him. He genuinely looked hurt. What sort of life did he lead before this job, previously...? She recalled that he was a professional game hunter, hired by patrons to represent them in competitions back in Australia. He probably had no close friends in his life then.

She began. "Nigel?"

"Yeah?" He looked up at her, drawn away from his thoughts.

"You _are_ a crazed gunman." She said directly and simply. It was the most obvious thing in the world.

The Sniper gave out a soft sound of anguish and shook his face into his hands. "I'm not saying anything to that statement sheila. I am a gunman but..."

"... you don't think you're crazy?" she asked gently. It was imperative that good relations be maintained. She could not afford to be on bad terms with him.

He was presently slumped onto the table, and with his cheek on his arm, he turned his head to face her. Toskia could clearly see the scar on his cheek caused by the Red Spy before she came here. He told her that he decided to leave it there as a reminder to never be careless.

"Toskia... do I look crazy to ya? You can tell me y'know." he said wearily.

Toskia sighed and replied slowly. "Not crazy, but not perfectly normal either."

The Australian nodded in silence, and clenched his fists until his knuckles became pale.

"Are you mad at me Nigel?"

"Nah." He regained his usual composure, and flexed his thin shoulders. He changed the subject. "Tomorrow is–"

"My operation."

"I still don't know who was the sicko nutter who did that to ya girl?" His eyebrows were sloping downwards in concern.

"I'll be fine, don't worry about me."

Nigel shook his head in disturbed astonishment. "Your whole body was operated on? How long did you take to recover? If ya didn't do it voluntarily, it's downright cruel!"

Toskia sighed and began to tell him in more detail. Actually it would appear that Nigel Mundy was in truth a gentle and sweet person. But why then did he take up this job?

•••••••••••••••••••

_Dear Miss Van Der Meer,_

_No. There will be no change of plans. Regarding your assessments of the mental states of our targeted recruits, we have already anticipated them. You are not to worry._

_The only accident is that Miss Phoung has been intercepted by the Red team, Redmond Mann's associate. He will be taken care of at the opportune moment._

_She is constantly being watched, but as far as we know, neither the Administrator or Redmond Mann knows that she is working for BEACON. However we will not risk sending her any letters, she is afterall a "stolen" recruit._

_Redmond Mann will want to have her mail monitored and be suspicious fearing that Blutarch Mann will try and take her back. Knowing the nature of Blutarch Mann, he just may try. It will be in our interest and convenience for that to happen._

_You will need to contact her and inform her what to do._

_We have heard from our informants that you will be going for further augmentations by our targeted surgeon. I wish you luck and fast recovery._

_Continue to maintain good relations with our targeted recruits._

_Yours,_

_Mr. Renfield._

••••••••••••••

Landric frowned and leafed through his old notes. The last time he saw all this was many years ago, when he still was working on Toskia, the only patient who survived.

"Archimedes! No!" He waved his arm.

His most naughty dove fluttered away from his files and papers on the desk, leaving a few down feathers fluttering about in its wake.

Landric had so many things on his mind, and it did not help that he did not have his drugs to calm him. The operation would be straightforward, and he was confident in his abilities. The thing that caused him more anxiety though was his thoughts on Toskia.

His feelings for her grew deeper by the day. Yet he was fearful of what he was doing. Once bitten, twice shy of course. Perhaps he should not keep his feelings from her, perhaps he should allow himself to appear even more vulnerable to her.

The Medic sighed and laid aside what he was reading. He felt a strong familiar craving. He was beginning to feel some withdrawal symptoms. He was already trembling slightly and his mouth felt dry, as though there was sand in it.

"Nien..." he muttered. In his thoughts was a syringe filled with morphine and needle, being pierced through the skin of his arm.

He gave into his impulse and craving, giving himself the excuse that he could not be going through cold-turkey while operating on Toskia. It was too late in the night for Toskia to come find him, however he would be honest if she asked.

It was a few minutes after he took his morphine. When he heard someone enter his clinic. Through the heavy and persistent haze of it, he settled himself deeper in his chair, with his arms upon the armrests thinking he had his office door locked. He thought wrong.

When on morphine, one has a tendency to be on cloud nine, and not give a damn regarding whatever happens. Landric did not give a damn that Nigel stormed into his office. Landric also did not give a damn that Nigel was screaming and looked very angry. Neither did he care that the sniper starting beating him and that the chair he was sitting on got overturned.

•••••••••••••••••

End of Chapter 15


	16. A False Threat

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION NOTHING MORE. TEAM FORTRESS 2 BELONGS TO VALVE CORPORATION.**

Names: (Story was started on 29 November 2010, not all characters have been named hence the need to come up with own names)

Spy: Andre

Heavy: Sokov

Sniper: Nigel Mundy (recent Team Fortress 2 update)

Soldier: Jane Doe (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Medic: Landric Metzger

Demoman: Tavish DeGroot (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Engineer: Dell Conagher (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Pyro: Pyro

Scout: Dillan

OC: Toskia Van der Meer

**BOOSTER**

**CHAPTER 16**

A Team Fortress 2 Fan-fic

"You fucking wanker!" The Australian shouted kicking Landric's body on the floor. "Get up!"

Landric just closed his eyes feeling and thinking of nothing. He tasted blood in his mouth and looked up at his attacker from the floor, before blearily closing his eyes again.

"What the hell is wrong with ya...?" Nigel stood over Landric, and stared at him angry and puzzled wondering why he... "The fuck. You're on drugs!"

Toskia arrived on the scene and covered Landric's body with hers, cradling his head and wiping the blood off his face with her fair hand. The blood stood off starkly in contrast upon her white skin. "Yes Nigel, he is on drugs."

When Nigel made a movement to compose himself, Toskia held tighter onto her Betreuer, mistaking the movement for another assault. Nigel frowned, "You really do love this sicko don't cha?" He stared at the sight of her holding their Medic. Landric's bloodied face was against hers, his expression blank, hers alert and protective.

Toskia said, "It is none of your business."

"Wait..." Realisation dawned on him. "You're not the drug addict, he is!"

"I would appreciate it if you keep this from the rest of the team."

Nigel splayed his hands apart in a helpless gesture. "How's he gonna operate on ya tomorrow lio'ke that?"

"He would have recovered by tomorrow."

"Jesus Chriost!" He shook his head and took off his leather bush hat.

Toskia heaved Landric's body up and asked Nigel to put the chair upright again on its legs before putting Landric back onto it. Nigel stood there for a moment hating Landric.

When he made to leave the room, Toskia called out to him. "Wait."

"Whot? I'd better just go now..." Nigel stated flatly, his face sour with jealousy.

"Do you like working for Blutarch Mann?"

Nigel looked meaningfully at Landric who seemed neither awake nor asleep.

Toskia tossed her blond head and said, "we are all in this together. We might as well talk about this."

"In this? In this whot?"

Toskia turned on Landric's medigun and aimed it at him, watching his wounds close up. "This whole set-up." she replied.

"Huh?"

"Answer me. Do you like working for Blutarch Mann." she repeated.

Nigel breathed out loudly through his nose and replied. "No. Ah don't."

"Good." Toskia continued, straightening the still drugged Landric into a less awkward position on his arm chair. "Have you ever heard of this company called BEACON?"

"I'm listening." he replied tentatively. "My contract's not–"

"Nevermind your contract."

Nigel kept silent for a moment scrutinising Toskia. What did she mean by that? BEACON. He recalled vaguely hearing of that company before. A large and prestigious company, but also with its controversies and so many wild rumours he did not know which could be true or false. To some people even, BEACON was a fictional private company altogether.

Nigel glanced once more at Landric and then said, "If I ain't wrong you're gonna tell me we're gonna blow our contracts and escape?"

Toskia nodded once in response. That gesture although so simple, piqued his interest immediately. How could he give up a chance to escape from this hell?

"... How?"

"With correct timing."

"Sheila. They're not gonna let us go just li'oke that."

"Even past the grave?" she asked. Her cold blue eyes focused onto his warm blue ones.

"When we're dead they won't give a damn, so long as we're alive..." Nigel shook his head in disbelief, his brows were brought low.

Toskia said softly, "Who says we will be alive?"

Nigel narrowed his eyes. "Wot are ya getting at girl?"

•••••••••••••••••

Landric finished the last line on his medical report. In the next room was Toskia, sleeping off the general anaesthesia he gave her for her operation.

The operation lasted four hours. It went well with no unusual incidents, there was the constant sound of the machines beeping. Landric blinked and smiled abit, he was glad that in this case it was unlike in the past when they could not afford enough pain killers. At least his dear Toskia did not suffer one bit in this procedure.

Toskia and himself would be staying in T.F. Industries for a few more days while she recovered.

There was the sudden sound of a door opening and slamming.

"Toskia! Ach. Get back into bed!" Landric got up from his chair and strode quickly to where his half-naked patient was. She had her eyes half-closed and she was leaning heavily against the wall for support.

"Betreuer..." she mouthed.

"You're not vell." said Landric gently. "Let me bring you to the room ja?"

"At least there are no new scars..."

He held her hand. "Ja. The medigun has made sure of that."

•••••••••••••

"My lungs are on fire! Steady now men!" yelled the Soldier in his hoarse voice. "ARRRRRGGHH!" He screamed and clung onto the enemy with a grenade in his hand.

"Bloody hell." slurred Tavish. "The're's one dedicated team player ther'e." He aimed his grenade launcher for a long-distance target. He drunkenly shook his head. The Red's new team member was making things hard for them.

Dell had to make his sentries work by heat, some new thing he called "infra-red" to penetrate the new enemy's smoke screens.

Pyro did not much like it either, but he was the only one immune to tear gas, nerve gas and flash grenades. He was learning how to be efficient in air blasting away those hateful things. Dell was the only other one who was immune to flash grenades, thanks to his welding goggles.

Sokov had learnt a new technique, of simply walking through the gas and spraying his bullets. After making sure of course that his team mates were all behind him. He did not care that the enemy Sniper took him out many times, with a bullet right through his head. Brains splattering out was something not new to him.

They struggled without their Medic.

•••••••••••••••••••

Ly kept close to the wall of the Red base and watched through her mask. She sighed. She thought better of sending a letter back to BEACON. It was all a game of waiting now. Where was Toskia...?

Her mask could see by normal vision and infra-red. It even had night vision. Luckily there were no complications in which she had to use that function.

A voice came from behind, it spoke in a confident and menacing French accent. "So. You are the new team member?"

Ly felt her mask deftly flipped off, and her body violently jerked around to be slammed hard against the wall with her arm twisted painfully behind her back.

Her face now uncovered, she was stared at by the Blue Spy. His masked face was only inches away from hers. She could feel his breath on her skin.

He whispered, "Oh look you mon beau. You're stunning."

Ly thought to call for help or fight. But then she was supposed to be on the Blue team... that and this man had a shining knife against her heart. She closed her eyes, expecting him to stab her.

The masked man in Blue moved his face to where her ear was and said, almost seductively. "I know you won't give me any information even if I threaten you with death oui?"

Ly did not answer, but diverted her eyes away from the man trying to think what to do. This man was one of BEACON's targets to recruit. She ultimately had to remain on good terms with him, and yet the situation was too delicate, she was unsure of making any move. To tell him would be a potentially bad idea.

Her eyes widened when the man pushed his body against hers suggestively, pressing that knife harder against her chest. He was threatening her with rape.

He said to her quietly, making sure he could be understood despite his heavy accent. "Tell me about your class or face ano'zzer different knife that I have."

Ly's throat clenched in nervousness and she stubbornly kept silent. She felt her vest holding her weapons being stripped off by her attacker's knife.

More forcefully this time he said, raising his voice. "Tell me!"

When she did not answer she remembered feeling something cold, cold steel enter her body and then she came to in respawn.

Andre watched the new enemy's body slide against the wall and onto the ground. He flicked his butterfly knife shut. Of course he could not rape her. He had more class than that. He sighed, he was sure that she would give him the information he needed for his team. She looked rather innocent. Odd though, she did not try to struggle or fight him. Surely she was capable of doing so. He was disappointed, he was hoping to do hand-to-hand combat with her. Sparring with a woman was something sexy to him.

He would wonder about her later, there was no time for that now. He cloaked with his watch, and then ran off disguising himself as his fallen victim.

•••••••••••••••••••

In T.F. Industries Toskia sat next to her hospital bed, in her medical ward. She opened the window abit and breathed in the fresh air from outside.

She heard the door opened and smiled when she saw the Medic walk in. "Betreuer, are you mad with our Sniper for assaulting you?"

"Vhat?"

Toskia blinked. "You do not know?"

Landric was already by her side with his hand on her cheek. "Are you hallucinating from your anaesthetics?"

"Last night you put yourself on just morphine right? I found you in your office..."

"You were so sveet mien fraulien, you carried me to bed..." He said sentimentally. On his face he wore a small smile. "When I woke up you vere there..."

Toskia stared at him. He evidently did not remember last night's incident with Nigel.

•••••••••••••••

End of Chapter 16

**Sorry for the short chapter friends! But I need to get a move-on with my pacing... Hang tight for the next one...**


	17. Always More

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION NOTHING MORE. TEAM FORTRESS 2 BELONGS TO VALVE CORPORATION.**

Names: (Story was started on 29 November 2010, not all characters have been named hence the need to come up with own names)

Spy: Andre

Heavy: Sokov

Sniper: Nigel Mundy (recent Team Fortress 2 update)

Soldier: Jane Doe (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Medic: Landric Metzger

Demoman: Tavish DeGroot (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Engineer: Dell Conagher (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Pyro: Pyro

Scout: Dillan

OC: Toskia Van der Meer

**BOOSTER**

**CHAPTER 17**

A Team Fortress 2 Fan-fic

"Aye mates!" The Demoman staggered about wiping his mouth. He was in the corridor filled with pigeon holes. It would appear that he got a small parcel from the dreaded administrator. "Mmmff.." He muttered.

He rubbed his eye and tried to focus his sight. Tavish rarely regretted drinking too much, and today was a rare moment in which he did. Clumsily like a toddler he ripped open the parcel and out fell more letters in blue envelopes. They scattered onto the dusty floor.

"I'm in the sea, floatin' aboot catching blue fishies!" he sang and bent over trying to pick them up. Instead he helplessly bowled over in a limp front-roll. He wondered why the lights were on the floor, and the letters had flown up into the ceiling like blue paper cranes.

Tavish had just started doing the backstroke on the cement floor when Sokov appeared.

"What is l'eetle bomb man doing on floor?" Sokov stood there for a moment studying the scene before him. His eyes followed the trail of letters and empty whiskey bottle.

"Quick Sokov! Help meh' catch the wee blue fishies!"

The Heavy sighed and slowly picked up the letters. Holding the letters from Blutarch Mann in one hand, with the other he picked up the Demoman. ("Must go tell rest of team letters have come from big Blue man.")

The drunken Demoman's legs and arms dangled swaying back and forth as he walked towards the recreational room where everyone was at relaxing the evening away.

The moment the Heavy reached the room and opened the door, the drunken merry-maker started singing, "Argh what do we do with a seasick sailor..."

As Sokov went to the lumpy leather couch to lay Tavish there, Dillan had already swiped from him that stack of letters.

"What cha' got here? Hey everyone! We got letters from da' head honcho!" He held them above his head waving with that standard grin he always wore on his smooth face.

Nigel was sitting with Andre and Dell. The three of them were at a small table playing cards, smoking and drinking beer. They looked up.

The young Scout skipped around the room passing everyone their copy like it was Christmas morning.

Nigel squinted at his letter. "We'd better wait for our Medic and Booster to get back hee're before we attempt this."

"Agreed." replied Andre. He extinguished his cigarette, it hissed softly. "Even with our respective expertise, it will not be easy."

•••••••••••••••••••

"We'll be back to the base by tomorrow evening Toskia. I hope you are well enough to start fighting the Red team again." said Landric.

He was holding her in his arms as they slowly danced a waltz. Nearby was a little radio playing in the ward. It was empty save for the two of them.

"I will be fine." she said. Laying her head into his chest.

They both fell silent, listening to a familiar melody playing on the radio. The reception was alittle poor, making it crackle slightly but neither cared.

"Did the operation hurt you very much my dear?" Landric put his cheek against Toskia's. The colour was beginning to come back to her cheeks, her body was replacing the blood lost during the procedure.

"No."

The two continued to slowly dance as the music played.

"What is you are thinkingk of mein fraulien? You always look away and go quiet..."

She looked up at him. "The situation is more complicated now..." she whispered. "I am worried, but we just have to see the state of things before I decide what course of action to take."

"I see."

"I hope I can recover fast." she mused. "Maybe I should die in battle on purpose to take advantage of the respawning machine." she joked.

Landric laughed at her black humour. But it did make sense.

"Betreuer was it you who made the respawning machines, do you know where they are?"

"Nien. It vas Dell the other genius who made zhem. They are most impressive ja?" said Landric. He danced with her, and gently spun her around. "And nien. I do not know where they are kept."

She looked into his bespectacled eyes. "I have an idea..."

Landric purposefully waltzed nearer to the radio and turned the volume up slightly higher. "Idea for what?" he whispered into her ear. His eyes closing slightly, in the pretence of initiating intimacy with her, he breathed into her ear and kissed it.

It had the desired effect. Some staff who just came by a moment to stock medicine and clean the area, stared at them looking uneasy but continued with his work.

Toskia and Landric did another turn, and she whispered kissing Landric's mouth, "Why isn't he leaving..."

Landric made the waltz much more salacious by pulling Toskia's body to his, and moving slowly with the music.

The cleaner stared uneasily at the couple in the ward dancing. From where he was standing he could see the woman's back. The man was feeling her waist and passionately kissing her neck. When the man lustfully grabbed the woman's arse while still staring at him with a naughty grin, he quickly diverted his eyes and left. "Mercenaries." He muttered.

Hearing the door slam, Toskia smiled and returned the kisses Landric gave her. "You're much braver now..."

"You do this to me Toskia. Only you..." he breathed, feeling very content.

Toskia smiled when she drew back away from him a moment to look at his rosy face. His round glasses were askew. She set them on straight for him.

Seized by sudden impulse Landric hugged her and whispered again and again in German that he loved her. "What was your idea Toskia?"

"Idea for escaping to BEACON. But we need to find out where the respawning machines are."

Landric caught on quickly, his grey eyes serious and alert. "We are going to kill off some people to escape and at the same time pretend to be dead?"

••••••••••••••••••••

At BEACON's headquarters, at one of their numerous luxurious balconies sat Dr. Marx and Mister Renfield drinking red wine, eating caviar, cheese and paté spread on crackers.

"I say old chap. It is as suspected." Renfield sipped his wine. "Blutarch Mann is rumoured to try and steal Phoung Ly back from the Red base." He savoured the long and warm alcoholic finish.

Dr. Marx asked, "How is Dr. Metzger anyway?"

"From the reports I read from Van Der Meer, he... is different now."

"Different?" he asked. He paused, holding a cracker with duck liver paté. He recalled Metzger as very controlled and sensible. "Different how?" Heaven forbid if Metzger had turned into one of those nut-jobs who killed and killed with no reason.

"Not insane. Just built a coping mechanism with how to deal with all the madness happening around him." Renfield said casually, spreading on cheese onto a cracker.

"Ah I see. Roughly when will all of them be here?"

"Two weeks. Everything has been going to plan."

••••••••••••••••

End of Chapter 17

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	18. Getting Deeper

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION NOTHING MORE. TEAM FORTRESS 2 BELONGS TO VALVE CORPORATION.**

Names: (Story was started on 29 November 2010, not all characters have been named hence the need to come up with own names)

Spy: Andre

Heavy: Sokov

Sniper: Nigel Mundy (recent Team Fortress 2 update)

Soldier: Jane Doe (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Medic: Landric Metzger

Demoman: Tavish DeGroot (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Engineer: Dell Conagher (as stated in Team Fortress Wiki)

Pyro: Pyro

Scout: Dillan

OC: Toskia Van der Meer

**BOOSTER**

**CHAPTER 18**

A Team Fortress 2 Fan-fic

"Two weeks. Everything has been going to plan."

"Everything?" asked Dr. Marx surprised. "I had no idea the establishment I was working for was that capable."

Renfield sighed contentedly. "Maybe just this department."

Dr. Marx blinked and tried to concentrate, being slightly intoxicated by the red wine. "Coping mechanism? Tell me more...?"

"Dr. Metzger seems to enjoy killing people now."

Dr. Marx did not reply but widened his eyes.

"Oh don't be so shocked. He may have changed but not as though he has been transformed into a completely different person. What matters is old boy, is that his talent and genius remains."

"Agreed." Sighed Dr. Marx. He pushed away his red wine, looking quite flustered now.

"Your friend will be right as rain." reassured Renfield smirking.

"I have never known Landric to be a killer, nor a sadist. This is a fact. At the most he enjoyed what discoveries he made. Not more."

"Well I did not mention any drastic change in character. He just seems to enjoy killing now. If it makes you feel better perhaps it is fact he kills because it is now his job to as part of the Blue team."

"God." whispered Dr. Marx.

••••••••••••••••••••

The two danced for a moment before the Medic brought his dear Toskia to their room. Inside after locking the door, he held her warm hand and brought his soft lips to it. Alone and in privacy they embraced and kissed, moving towards the empty bed.

They sat on the soft bed, sinking slowly into it. The Medic held Toskia to his chest, and smelt her short blond hair, breathing in her scent. Landric ran his fingers through her soft hair, admiring it. He felt her arms around him as well and he sighed in blissful response.

After removing his glasses and laying them aside on the bedside table, Toskia gently ran her warm fingers on his neck, and pushed her fingers into the collar of his shirt feeling his skin beneath. She began to undo his white double-breasted coat, and she nudged him to fall back onto the bed. His voice intoned momentarily in pleasant surprise as she fell onto his chest, her warm hands rubbing his now bare chest.

She was nuzzling her pale face against his chest, Landric relaxed and enjoyed the sensation of feeling her soft breathing, her warm and fond caresses. She was kissing his chest now, he could feel her lips hardening as she sensuously kissed his heaving chest, and then she–

"T-Toskia!" he gasped aghast.

She ceased her erotic activity for a moment to say, looking at him with her eyes heavily lidded, "But you do it to me all the time, I want to do the same for you..."

Landric tried to sit up, now nervous from that unfamiliar sensation. "But I'm a man!" he cried.

She pressed her supple body against his harder and pinned him back onto the bed, she kissed his trembling mouth and rubbed his shin with her foot to calm him. She felt his body tense again when she put her soft mouth to his pink nipple. "Relax... she whispered, you will grow to like it. Trust me... It is not only women who find it pleasurable..."

Landric gasped when he felt her warm mouth over his nipple, her tongue teased it. His nervous heart beat harder from embarrassment and then as he relaxed, his feelings smoothly became into what she said, sharp arousal and of steady pleasure. His breathing became louder and louder, as though his heart itself was fighting for freedom inside his tight chest. He felt her hand moving down to his throbbing groin and savagely squeezing it with desire...

"Ach... arghhhh... ahhhhh" Landric moaned openly and without restraint. He held her and brought her face up to his, it was too intense for him if she continued with her hand upon his hard groin he would surely come. Panting heavily he kissed her fervently, and began to strip her of her dark blue coveralls, at the same time she helped him pull off the rest of his clothing.

He grabbed both of her hands and pushed her onto her back, and in one smooth movement removed Toskia's coveralls from her legs. Her white panties came off together with her coveralls and he threw them impatiently aside, his cheeks were red from blushing. They both stared at each other a moment, neither moving a muscle.

Landric admired her body in the dim lighting, even blurry it was still wonderful to him. He wrapped his arms around her thighs, covered her moist vulva with his mouth and began to explore with his tongue her most feminine of areas. The way she moaned sent his head spiralling in ecstasy and dizzying arousal, even though his penis was still hidden in his trousers the throbbing alone was so pleasurable.

When she came, he felt more of her warm and sweet juices flowed out into his mouth, he closed his eyes and drank deeply, savouring what he tasted and felt, as though her vulva was pulsing from blood rushing through it, Landric's tongue never failing to stroke her swollen clit.

"I love you..." she cried as her scarred body arched from climax.

He pulled his body level with hers, as she removed his trousers and threw them aside he replied, "I love you too."

They slowed their pace a moment, just holding each other in that warm and loving embrace. Arms wrapped around each other, they panted and caught their breaths.

Toskia could feel his rigid erection pressing against her thigh, it was so warm.

She whispered slowly, still recovering from that orgasm he gave her, "Don't you want me?"

"Ja, very much. But I like to take my time..." he replied, running his hands over her back and feeling her scars and fair skin. They french-kissed slowly, breathing together, their bodies already against each other yet they clutched at each other's hands trying to be closer.

When their breathing had slowed down again, Landric lay on top of her. "I love you." he said, thrusting into her, feeling her tight and hot sex clenched over his meat. He looked at her face as he moved inside of her, they both were blushing and sweating slightly. His movement was slow, deliberate and sexy.

For awhile the lovers enjoyed the erotic and loving sensation of being one, then the Dutch woman's breathing became more ragged, again a familiar throbbing sensation erupted in her nether regions as she climaxed again from Landric's continuous controlled movement, her voice intoning expressively. "Betreuer you make me come again... I..." she grabbed his sweaty shoulders and cried out as he continued to press his pillar deeper into her.

Seeing her thrash her head to the side, Landric stopped. Breathing through his mouth he panted, a spurt of guilt going through him. "Am I hurting you mein fraulein?" He blinked heavily, ignoring his throbbing groin, he comfortingly stroked her blond hair and protectively kissed her cheek, "I'm sorry..."

"No you're not hurting me, I can't take anymore of the pleasure you give me... You satisfy me like no other..." she said, laying back and recovering. "I'm ready again, make love to me."

He gasped as he pushed his cold member into her warm sex, the difference in temperature causing him to moan in ecstasy with his Toskia. He resumed his former pace.

She asked, "Are you doing this on purpose to torture me?" her warm hands stroked his face and she pulled him down to kiss him. When they broke apart Landric hissed, "Am I too much for you?"

"Yes."

"Here's more..." he shifted his body and picked up his pace, closing his eyes feeling closer to climax, she had began to moan again in that low alto voice of hers making his heart thump harder. "I'm coming..." he pushed himself as deep as he would fit into her and trembled slightly as he came, his seed spurting into her. As he felt his orgasm fading away he slumped onto her and cuddled her, exhausted and satiated.

The two went to the shower together before going to sleep. Tomorrow they would be returning to the Blue base to continue their fight against the Red team. Beacon's instructions could then be carried out.

•••••••••••••••

Ly was out for revenge certainly. She decided to wait for instructions from either Toskia or Mr. Renfield, and in order to blend in with the Red team she co-operated with them and fought fiercely. Her constant target was the one of Beacon's targets. The Blue spy, that French man in a suit. Currently she was leading, she had killed him four times, whereas he had only killed her three.

This method of trying to instil some form of reaction from him was the best she could do for the time-being, and it was working.

•••••••••••••••

End of Chapter 18

Sorry for taking this long, I have been so caught up with work lately.


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